Chapter 10 – Poetic Justice

After the last of the town's eating and drinking establishments had closed for the night, the rain began falling in a drizzle; soaking the pavement and the grass in the small front yards of the few houses that lined the street.

Jack, grateful that he was wearing his flannel pajamas against the chill in the air, pulled his robe's cloth belt tighter. He stood under the tin awning of the home's back door and waited patiently for Rip to wander back down the alley.

Comet brushed against Jack's leg, and meowed for her favorite human to hold her.

Jack bent down and picked up the black cat with its streak of white. The feline, small for her age, had proven to be a devoted member of the family. When Jack had found her walking towards town the morning after Elizabeth and Thatch had been kidnapped, he had a pretty good idea that she was coming from following them, or had been with them. Jack knew then that he had been traveling in the right direction; that his kidnapped family was heading west of town.

Jack now stroked the cat's fur and listened to the pleasant sound of the rain hitting the small roof. Despite the chilly rain, nothing could dampen his spirits. Not even if Thatch were colicky, would Jack get upset. Although, to be honest, he was grateful that the boy had outgrown that.

After another two minutes outside Rip hurried back to him. Jack ushered the animal inside and followed after him.

Jack walked quietly, not wanting to draw attention to himself in case the baby was still awake and happened to look at him. If Thatch saw his father walk by, he would most likely react be smiling broadly, reaching out his arms, and babbling incoherently. All of which were wonderful during the daytime, but not conducive to bedtime.

Jack smiled as he walked past Elizabeth on his way to the front door to make sure it was locked. She barely glanced up from the novel in her hands.

After ensuring the door was secured, he opened up the front window drapes slightly and looked outside. He scanned the quiet street; looking at the nearby buildings.

Jack loved living in Bear Creek. It was larger than many frontier towns, but nowhere near the size of a bustling city. It had one school. One school teacher. One bank. One doctor. One Mountie.

The fact that he lived with, and was madly in love with, the one school teacher was the part he liked the best.

He scanned the buildings across the way and then glanced at the large green letters painted twelve inches high on his own front window. The words were backwards if read from the inside the home, but he didn't need to read them to know what was written. The writing announced to anyone concerned that it was the Thorntons' home. At least until they moved to their next assignment.

He pulled the drapes shut again, and proceeded to the kitchen.

Five minutes later, he crossed the bedroom threshold. Not bothering to look to the right or left. Knowing that Elizabeth was in bed. She was sitting up, her back propped against a pillow as she read.

For the umpteenth time in the last thirty years, Jack was glad that he had perfect eyesight; it allowed him to see his beautiful wife and son.

They had been home for three weeks. Three weeks of normalcy. Three weeks of routine chores and changing diapers and cleaning the house. Three weeks of Mountie work and school work. Three weeks of hugs and laughter.

Most everyone would be home in their beds this late at night. Quite a few would be reading books. The only contagion that was now going through Bear Creek was Elizabeth's zeal for the library and her love of reading; it had become contagious as more and more books had arrived in town in response to her written requests.

"Do you have it?" Elizabeth asked as she looked up at Jack when he approached their bed with one hand held slightly behind his back.

"Do you have what I want?" he countered.

Elizabeth chuckled. "What do you want?"

"I will give you this mug of hot chocolate provided you give me some love."

'How much love?" she giggled.

"There aren't really varying degrees of our love. Unsurpassable love is unsurpassable love. But I suppose there are varying degrees of how we show it."

"And how do you want me to show it?" she challenged.

Without another word, the emotional man leaned down and gently touched his lips to Elizabeth's.

The transaction, a kiss for a mug of hot chocolate, was long and tender.

Jack, who didn't even notice that the cold rain had soaked the bottom fifth of his pajama legs, grinned slightly as he pulled away.

It had been a good exchange.

The next afternoon, Elizabeth threw up her hands in exasperation. She had spent ten minutes searching in the closet, under couch pillows, under the couch, in the cupboards. The skein of blue yarn was gone.

"Jack! Did you move my blue yarn?"

Jack, wiping his hands on a dishrag, walked in from the kitchen and looked at a frazzled Elizabeth. "No, did you leave it in the bedroom?"

"I wasn't knitting in the bedroom!"

"I'm sure it will turn up."

"That's what you said last time."

Elizabeth plopped herself down the couch and sighed. "She's so frustrating but I suppose she's gotten her point across."

"Who? What?"

Elizabeth smiled as she reached into the wicker basket next to her and pulled out a skein of yarn. "We're having a girl."

Jack's brow furrowed in curiosity as he took in the sight of his wife sitting on the couch.

She was holding a bundle of pale pink spun wool. Staring at it as if it was the most wonderful thing in the world.

Yarn.

Pink yarn.

"Elizabeth?"

Elizabeth, her eyes filled with tears, looked up at Jack.

"Those are happy tears, right?" he asked hesitantly.

She nodded and then patted her stomach. "This one's a girl."

Jack looked around the room cautiously as he walked towards her.

"And you know this how?"

"She's hidden my last four skeins of blue yarn. I keep buying it. To make some more baby things. And she keeps hiding it. But the pink yarn is always here. Always handy. Waiting for me to make something. Something pink."

"Who has? Who's hidden your blue yarn?"

"Bunny. Our lavender-scented ghost. She's telling me not to bother making anything blue for the baby. This one's going to wear pink."

Jack smiled and shook his head in laughter. "I'm not going to argue with you. If you want a girl, we're having a girl."

"I'm not telling you it's a girl. Bunny is. She's telling us it's a girl."

"You know how crazy that sounds."

"I know", Elizabeth smiled. "And you can tell me that it's just coincidence. Or some self-fulfilling prophecy. That there's no such thing as ghosts. That subconsciously, I keep misplacing the blue yarn because I really want a girl. And you're probably right. Except . . . . except I don't keep misplacing the blue yarn. I put it in the basket every time I buy a new one, and the next day, it's always gone." She looked down at her belly. "This one's a girl."

"Well, we've already got three names ready for a girl."

"Three? I thought we had two."

"Halley. After Halley's comet, of course. And Jacklyn. Because you insist."

"What's the third?" Elizabeth crinkled her eyebrows in curiosity.

"Elizabeth. After the most wonderful woman I know. I think a daughter would be very lucky to be named after you."

Elizabeth gave a chuckle. "I'm not so sure you can handle two Elizabeths."

Before Jack could respond, Thatch, who had been in the kitchen, crawled across the floor towards the couple. He moved as if on a mission, making babbling sounds as he headed for his intended target.

Jack froze and his eyes grew wide. "Did you hear that?!" he asked excitedly.

"Hmm. I did." Elizabeth hesitated, wondering why Jack was so excited.

"He said pop-pop! He's trying to say Papa! He's saying his first real words! Papa!"

"Are you sure about that?"

"Of course, he's coming right towards me saying it!"

Before Elizabeth could disagree, a thrilled Jack reached down and scooped up Thatch into his arms.

"Although, I wonder why he'd call me Papa instead of Daddy or Dada. Must be a baby thing" Jack mused as he lovingly carried the boy against his chest.

"Papa! I'm his Papa. And he said it before Mama", Jack noted proudly with a smile at Elizabeth.

Jack, carrying Thatch, happily walked back towards the kitchen to finish the dishes. His son stretched out an arm over Jack's shoulder as if reaching for something.

Elizabeth followed her son's gaze, which was longingly focused on the purse laying by her feet on the floor. The purse Jack had been standing next to when Thatch crawled across the floor.

"Pop pop", the little boy said one more time with a disappointed look on his face as he disappeared into the kitchen.

Elizabeth leaned down and picked up her purse. Opening it, she glanced at the contents inside. Without taking anything out of the bag, she closed it and gave a small smile.

While Elizabeth had found the kidnapping ordeal to be something she never wanted to repeat or even remember, Thatch had a different experience. He had found one part of the ordeal to be thoroughly amazing. The lollipop which the hospital staff had given him. His first encounter with candy.

He had also managed to look so adorably sweet that the nurse had handed a second one to Elizabeth.

Back home in Bear Creek, Thatch had carefully watched as Elizabeth, who had remembered the lollipop in her pocket, put it into her purse for later use.

Elizabeth smiled at her son's babbling attempt to say lollipop. There was no reason to explain to Jack that he now had competition for his son's affection.

That night, the noise from outside the window caused Elizabeth to jerk her head up from the pages of the book she had been reading.

Why do I keep reading scary things at night?! Especially after my ordeal?!

Jack was lying on his back, the right side of his face with its evening stubble was pressed into the pillow. His eyes were closed. His breathing slow and gentle.

Elizabeth, who had been engrossed in her book, hadn't noticed exactly when Jack had fallen asleep. She guessed that it was sometime between her reading of the single young woman moving to the big city and the killing of the garbage man by the crazed assassin.

She was about to return to the open page in the novel, when she thought she heard the faint sound of something falling.

It was coming from the front room. She was sure of that. Maybe. Probably not.

What the heck was that?

Elizabeth looked again at Jack.

How can he sleep so soundly?

Elizabeth turned her head in the other direction and looked at the crib containing Baby Jack, or Thatch as she now usually called him after listening to Jack refer him to that nickname constantly.

Both my men. Sleeping like babies.

It was probably just the wind. Maybe blowing something against the front window or the door.

Straining her ears, Elizabeth thought she heard another sound in the front room. But it was so faint that she wasn't positive.

Maybe just my imagination.

Yes. That's it. My imagination.

Probably.

Elizabeth tried to return her attention to her book, but there it was again!

Something or someone was moving about in the front room.

Jack and Thatch, oblivious to the noises, were still sleeping peacefully.

I can be brave. Just like the heroine in this book, Elizabeth thought.

Steeling herself against her fears, Elizabeth took a final look at Jack and threw back her covers.

I can be brave. I can be brave. Elizabeth repeated. I just have to walk into the front room and see what the noise is. Just grab a baseball bat, walk into the front room, and see what the noise is.

Oh, the heck with that. I'm tired of being brave. Goodness knows, I've been doing it enough lately.

Elizabeth pulled the covers back up and nudged Jack with her elbow. "Jack", she hissed.

He reacted to her nudge by moving slightly.

"Do your husbandly job", she ordered quietly so as not to disturb the baby.

Jack didn't open his eyes but sleepily mumbled. "Which husbandly job? Because if you're talking about making love to you or taking out the trash, I already did both of them tonight."

"Your other one," she hissed.

"We already ate dinner", he replied lazily as he turned onto his side. "I've provided for my family."

Elizabeth's hand pushed rudely against Jack's body. "Protect me!", she ordered in exasperation.

Jack was suddenly alert. His eyes opened wide. "What?! What's happened?"

"I heard a noise in the front room."

If Elizabeth had said the house was on fire or a tornado was coming, Jack couldn't have acted any faster. Within ten seconds, he was out of bed and had his weapon in his hand.

Two minutes later, Jack returned to the bedroom.

His unused weapon was still in his one hand. Cradled in his other arm were Comet and several skeins of blue yarn.

"I solved the mystery of your missing blue yarn. Comet's been stealing it and hiding it behind the sideboard. She was dragging another one across the floor when I found her," he said as he dumped the cat and yarn on the foot of the bed.

"Sorry", Elizabeth said guiltily and looking embarrassed that she had been frightened. "I was reading and I guess I scared myself."

"I told you not to read scary stuff before you fall asleep at night. You know it always gives you the creeps."

Jack unloaded his weapon and put it in the top dresser drawer before crawling back into bed.

"Comet's been stealing my yarn?" she said with a disappointed look.

"Yep. No ghost. Just a cat."

Jack closed his eyes after pulling up the covers. He wondered whether Elizabeth was going to turn out the light.

"Maybe Bunny told her to steal it. They're working together", Elizabeth mumbled pensively.

"I've got a poem for you", Jack said sleepily. "Roses are Red. Violets are blue. I want to sleep. Maybe you can, too?"

The morning sun was a brilliant warm yellow. It filtered in the home's windows and left a swath of sunlight on the front room floor. As Jack carried the mail inside after breakfast, he decided that it would be the perfect day for a family picnic.

He looked at the front counter which ran almost the entire length of the front room. A left-over from the building's days as a mercantile. He still had time to set up a small bed and install a curtain along the top before Nanny Naples eventually arrived to help. But he wouldn't do it today.

Today was meant for other things.

Today was too beautiful not to spend outside and allow Thatch to crawl in the grass. To look at bugs with his baby eyes wide with wonderment. To allow a pregnant Elizabeth to sit on a blanket and enjoy relaxing in the sunshine. To maybe sketch the scene.

"You got mail. From The Toronto Globe", Jack announced to Elizabeth when he walked into the kitchen. "And I think we should go for a picnic this afternoon."

Elizabeth, who was scraping the burnt bottom of a frying pan, dropped the pan onto the counter and looked at Jack with wide eyes. "From The Toronto Globe?!"

Without waiting for a further response, she grabbed the envelope from Jack's hand and excitedly ripped it open. She pulled out the sheet of paper and quickly scanned it.

"I won! I won!", she shrieked as she bounced on her feet in joy.

"The poetry contest?"

Elizabeth stared at the paper in her hand again and then looked up at Jack and grinned broadly. Her eyes were lit up in excitement. "I won first place. Forty dollars. Do you know how many books that will buy?"

Jack chuckled. "At least twenty. You told me before. Several times. Do I get to read this poem?"

Jack took his time reading the poem while Elizabeth busied herself with making an apple pie for the picnic, and with a sink full of dirty dishes.

"It's getting published in the paper!" she called again over her shoulder.

Jack looked up at his wife, who was standing in front of the basin of water. Her hair was piled up and she had a white apron tied around her waist. Anyone looking at her would see the epitome of a housewife; they would never guess that she managed to successful juggle marriage, motherhood, a teaching career, and solving mysteries. And win a poetry contest.

He looked back at the paper in his hands. Skimming the words this time.

He rides away from me. . . . They ask me how; the neighbors and family ask me how I get through each day. . . . . . He has my heart, I tell them. . . . . .He rides away from me with promises that he'll always return. . . . And I believe him.. . . .

Setting down the paper, he watched Elizabeth blow a bubble at Thatch, who was sitting on the kitchen counter, his tiny bare feet splashing in the water as she cleaned the dishes.

"Is this how you really feel?"

Elizabeth looked up from the plate in her hands. "Of course."

"You don't worry about me?"

"Naturally I worry about you a bit. But I believe in you. In us", she replied with an unconcerned shrug. "Just like you worry about me a bit but you believe in me."

"That reminds me. What made you think to use a diaper pin to poke Mr. Sanders in the eye."

"A book I read."

"You read a book about a kidnapped woman poking a man in the eye with a diaper pin?" Jack asked skeptically.

Elizabeth laughed. "No, silly. I read a book about using whatever you have at hand to survive if you are in a tense situation. It said to find a weapon and wait for the element of surprise. It was one of your Mountie books."

"When did you read one of my Mountie books?"

Elizabeth shrugged. "One night when I was up late and you were gone. I saw it on your nightstand and decided to read more about your job".

"I am forever grateful that you love to read", he admitted with a grin.

Elizabeth smiled back. "Me too."

Jack looked back down at the poem in his hand. "What made you think to write about me for the poetry contest?"

"A book."

"Of course", Jack said with a laugh and an understanding nod of his head. "Why did I even bother to ask? My Mountie book?"

"Nope."

Elizabeth threw a drying rag to Jack, who stood up and moved to the sink.

He planted a kiss on his son's head which was now covered in bubbles, leaving Jack with suds on his lips. Jack wiped his mouth and then started drying a plate while he waited for Elizabeth to explain.

"I was reading one of those books which Mr. Sanders wanted banned. There was a character whose lover was going off to sea and she refused to wait for him. She told him that she'd rather marry a man who wasn't a sailor, even if she didn't care for him as much. It got me thinking about you and how I'll always wait for you. And that gave me the idea for the poem."

"So not only did Mr. Sander's list of books which he wanted banned give you the idea that the cattle were being poisoned, but it motivated you to enter a poetry contest, and gave you the idea for a poem which was responsible for you winning enough money to buy the very books he wanted banned."

Elizabeth couldn't hide her smile as she splashed some water on Thatch's legs and he giggled. "That about sums it up."

"If he had never tried to ban the books, he just maybe would have gotten away with his crimes."

"He did himself in."

"Well, I call that justice."

"I call it poetic justice", Elizabeth said with a grin as Jack put his arms around her belly and nuzzled her neck with his mouth.

The End of Vignette 13

Dear Readers, Thanks for reading. I hope you enjoyed it. Now that this Vignette is completed, I'll be returning to writing "Reversal of Fortune: What if things were different" under the name woolenslipper. If you haven't read it, give it a try! It's light and fun. A unique twist to the dialogue of the TV show.

P.S.S. And don't forget to check-out Vignette Fourteen: The Surprising Sound of a Clue!