I pushed through the front door of my newly constructed home at the edge of Briarwood, my heart lifting as my boots echoed off the hardwood floor. Warmth surrounded me as I scanned the space, noting the polished oak railing, smooth beneath my calloused hand. The steady ticking of the brass clock in the sitting room echoed through the quiet house, mingling with the crackle of the hearth fire. A slight floral scent wafted in the air from the cut wildflowers Abigail always insisted on keeping in the pewter vase by the window, their vibrant colors a stark contrast to the muted tones of our colonial furnishings.
My home. A smile curved my lips. My home with Abigail.
I sucked in a deep breath, satisfaction swirling inside me with my life.
“Abigail!” I called, listening for her footsteps so I could meet her wherever she was in the house.
But I heard nothing. “Abigail!”
I mounted the stairs, peering up to the second floor. “Abigail?”
My eyebrows furrowed, and a frown removed any trace of the smile from my lips. Where would she be?
I eased down to sit on the stair. Maybe a medical emergency. With Abigail now trusted by many of the townspeople, she may have been summoned by one of them.
“Yes, that’s likely it,” I told myself aloud, hoping the words would settle the gnawing fear in my gut that Abigail had disappeared from my life.
A silly notion, but one I hadn’t yet shaken despite months of marriage. The memory of those lonely days without her still haunted me. Abigail had struggled to adjust to our simpler life when she’d become stranded here, opting to return with her brother to her time. I’d been overjoyed when she returned, choosing our life together over the comforts of her era. But the fear that she might change her mind again never truly left me.
I had nightmares that I’d return home one day and walk into an empty house–just as I had right now.
I’d done my best to make life easier for her, to accommodate her more modern needs, but I, of course, couldn’t match the level of comfort she’d come from.
I heaved a sigh, wondering if she’d leave a note before she disappeared or if she’d simply leave.
