Henry smiled. He was finally home, after all he’d been through, he’d made it back. He adjusted his cloak against the coming gloom and looked at the distant farmhouse.

The farmhouse stood as it had always been, wreathed by the large cotton trees. Its windows were bright in welcoming even in the greenish darkness that the seasonal thunderstorm brought. Henry walked along the dirt road, stiffening himself against the wind.

He couldn’t stop himself from grinning behind his veil, a strange sensation, considering the state of his face. He hoped Rebecca was there, he was going to ask her an important question.

As he came to the farmhouse thunder rumbled from the storm in the west. He steeled himself and knocked on the welcoming door.

Standing in front of him was a young woman wearing a simple dress and a surprised expression on her face. “Henry!” she recognized him as she jumped into his arms. He stood in the foyer holding her, between the storm outside and the warmth of the farmhouse. “Rebecca.” he whispered.