Mountain Ice (David Dean Mysteries)

Mrs. Cummings was taken away to the Sister's hospital this forenoon and I fear she shan't ever return. Her son has been called from Denver and is to arrive tomorrow on the afternoon train. My heart is empty as I have no doubt he'll dismiss me if his mother does, in fact, pass on to her final reward. This I am sure will occur if he is to guess my condition, which grows more noticeable as my time draws closer.

My dearest Joshua has been absent for near a week now, bound to the duties of his calling, and those of his wife who is much involved in the charities of our city. I am alone in this house, with only a cat for company though he gives me little solace. My world shrinks with each passing day. On Monday I dared venture to Main Street to replenish our near-empty larder. I passed Skinny Nelly who looked the other way as I neared her. It made me cry that I, who so short a time past was one of their ranks, is now shunned by a member of even this, the lowest profession.

I've nowhere to turn. These last days I've begun to understand this and come to the dreaded decision of what is to become of me. Of us, our child and me, as now we are one.

I read a passage in a novel last evening as I sat by the fire, trying to wile away these idle hours. A woman, dreaming of her pending marriage, scratched in tiny letters with her diamond, 'So in love, says everyone,' on the pane of her bedroom window. The words fell from my lips as softly as the tears from my eyes, I so wished the world could know of the love I hold for you.

With loving hands, dear Joshua, I did the same. I took the ring you gave me and I too scratched that identical message on my bedroom window, the very same room where you and I have stolen our few hours together. My letters are so small none will ever see my missive, but there it will remain and give me strength for what I am now resigned I must do.

I have unfastened the silken cord from the drapes and knotted it to the gas fixture above. It hangs there, waiting for me to step upon this velvet chair where I sit, tie its far descending end to my neck, and step from this world, freeing it from the guilt and troubles Annie Quincy has caused.

I only ask this of you, my dearest Joshua; that you not tell my family how I lived, and that you mourn not my passing. I would choose not to alter a single element of my life if in so doing it would eliminate even an instant of the time we're spent together. But you have your life and your duties to others and I must stop wounding your conscience and let you go your destined way. I thank my God that I too had you, if only for a little while. Believe in your heart forever how very much I loved you.