"Abi, take a break. You're going to make yourself sick running around here like this," Clare scolded her as she counted the cookies on the tray one more time.

Because she didn't know what else to do for the family, Abigail had offered up The Tea Shop for a reception after the funeral. Because it was Mrs. Winters, she wanted everything to be perfect. However, she hadn't slept since Mrs. Winters had waved goodbye to her.

When the bell over the front door chimed, and she jumped as if someone had come from behind a tree with an ax, Clare moved through the kitchen to see who it was. "Stay in here. You're too messed up for a customer to see."

A few moments later Clare and Carson walked through the door of the kitchen together.

Under the wool overcoat, he was dressed in a three-piece suit, was freshly shaven, and smelled of heaven. He certainly was apt to make an impression.

"Are you ready?" he asked, his voice soft and sad.

"I don't know. The shop isn't set up all the way. I keep losing track on my count for these cookies, and…"

Clare gripped her shoulders. "And if you don't get the hell out of my way, it won't be ready at all. Now go. I will have everything set up when you get back."

On any other day, Abigail would argue with her. Today, she felt weak, so she pulled her cousin in and hugged her. "I love you. Thank you."

"I love you, too. Now go."

Carson helped her with her apron when it tangled, and he held her coat so she could slide into it. His car had been cleaned and waxed. It sat, a brilliant shiny black against the newly fallen snow.

"I am absolutely sure Mrs. Winters ordered snow in October just to have her funeral. It's fitting," he said as he opened the car door and Abigail slid in.

"It shimmers in the sunlight," Abigail added.

"Yeah, just like she did."

He shut the door and walked around the car. Shrugging out of the overcoat, he opened the back door and set the coat on the seat. He closed the door and opened the other. A crisp breeze blew into the car as he slid in.

For a moment he sat silently, his hands on the wheel. "I've known this day was coming for years. I don't think you're any better prepared when it gets here though."

Abigail reached for his hand. Again, she saw the cloud of darkness, and she felt the dampness on her skin.

Quickly she pulled back. He was distraught enough, and he didn't seem to notice her reaction.

A moment later Carson pulled away from the curb and headed to the church where they would say their final goodbyes to a woman that meant the world to both of them.

---

The funeral had been well attended, which told Carson that the woman who had filled a void in his life had touched many others.

Though he'd been very close to her son Glenn's family most of his life, it was the first time he'd met Jeffery's other cousins, but they all seemed to know him.

It was interesting that Mrs. Winters had loved him as much as everyone said she had. She wasn't his grandmother, but even talking to her own grandchildren, no one would have been the wiser. She was proud of him, and she boasted about how well he did in business and the good he did for the community. Mrs. Winters' daughter even knew all about Abigail, and she'd shared that she was happy to see that they had finally found each other.

After Carson helped carry Mrs. Winters to her final resting place, he took a few minutes to visit Jeffery only a few feet away.

The hand on his shoulder told him that Abigail understood his pain. She stood quietly to his side, but her presence eased the ache in his heart.

"I went up the mountain the other day and talked to him," he said still crouching in front of his headstone. "He was there. I felt him. I smelled him," he said with a chuckle. "At one point I thought I could see him."

"I think you did too."

Carson looked up at her. "You've talked to him?"

She shook her head. "I think Mrs. Winters wanted you and I to have something more in common. She told me so in a dream, but it didn't make any sense to me. But if you saw him, then she's instilled that in you."

Carson stood. "So now I'll see the future?"

She shrugged. "Or you'll see her and Jeffery. You'll only see what you want to see. But your mind is open now."

---

Carson took her hand and laced their fingers together. "You don't see anything with us, still?"

Abigail shook her head. "I'm glad, actually. I want it all to be fresh and new."

He pulled her to him and pressed a kiss to her forehead. "I love you, Abigail Weston. I can't imagine the pain my heart would be going through if you weren't here. I didn't know how I'd recover from the loss of Jeffery, and Mrs. Winters was there for me. Now you're here while I process my loss of her."

"I'll never leave your side," she promised, even though she could feel the world begin to spin as he held her hand. There was something coming she thought as he broke the connection and turned to one of Jeffery's cousins who stood and began to reminisce with Carson.

How was she supposed to know how to stop whatever inevitable bad was to come his way if she were now alone with her ability? Carson had somehow summonsed Jeffery on his trip to the mountain. Could Abigail summons Mrs. Winters in more than just her dreams? She would have to try because now she was too deep in love with the man to lose him and not know what was coming for them.

---

After the funeral, Mrs. Winters' entire family converged on The Tea Shop. As Clare had promised, she had everything ready and set up as they had planned.

Mrs. Winters' daughter Donna moved to Carson and Abigail as they stood with Jeffery's brother.

"Abigail, this is a lovely place. I've been meaning to come by and see it. My mother talked about it all the time. It looks so different from when she had her linen shop here," she said as she looked around.

"I'm sorry, she had what?" Abigail asked.

Donna smiled as she lifted her teacup to her apricot painted lips. "She never mentioned it? Oh, when my mother and father had first started out, she and her mother opened a linen shop in this very spot. They sold bed and table linens, oh and appliquéd handkerchiefs. That was one of their specialties."

Abigail pulled the handkerchief from her pocket, which Mrs. Winters had given her. "Like this?"

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?