**Sorry for the delay; it was a busy weekend. No steam in this one. It is kind of heavy, but I feel important, read. Enjoy!**

Chapter 10

Jack was anxious. His rounds were covered by Bill. He didn't have much to do before the wedding which had been scheduled for that evening. Rosemary had pounced on poor Pastor Frank the minute he came back to town last night; rumor had it that she had come at him from the front porch steps, where she had been sitting and waiting, and Frank had almost fallen off his horse when he came to a stop at the church. Once his pulse had slowed down enough that he could think straight, he had enthusiastically agreed to perform the wedding ceremony the next evening at six o'clock.

That had started off a chain of events in the town like no one had seen since the mobilization during the flood. Within 20 minutes of school starting on Friday morning, Rosemary had assembled all of the available adult females at the cafe and they had begun working on cloth roses and bows of tulle and velvet. For the other women who were a bit artistically challenged with a needle and thread Abigail set them to work cooking and baking for the reception. Abigail had finished the cake in the wee hours of the morning, too excited with pent up energy to sleep. Though not fancy, the fare would be warm, tasty and hearty, with Jack's favorite, Abigail's beef stew, and plenty of hot, flakey biscuits for Elizabeth, though Rosemary was quick to point out that Elizabeth couldn't eat any of them if she was going to be able to stay tucked into her dress.

A little before ten, Dottie and Rosemary ducked out of the café to the dress shop in order to meet Elizabeth for her fitting. They had everything laid out for her when she swept through the door and the excitement was palatable. Rosemary, knowing Elizabeth's mother was all the way in Hamilton, had told Abigail, who was the ultimate mix of best friend and mother figure, to come to the shop at 10:30, giving them enough time to get Elizabeth into the dress before she arrived.

Elizabeth had stepped behind the curtain and had stripped off her dress and waited anxiously for Rosemary to bring in the wedding dress she had worn, cradled carefully in her arms. She began clucking like a mother hen.

"Now, Elizabeth, don't get too worried about it if it doesn't fit right away. Dottie and I are simply magic with a needle and thread and we will somehow piece it together to work for you," she prattled as she helped Elizabeth gather the gown above her head to pull it on. "We can also cinch that corset a bit more!"

As the gown shimmed to the floor in one fluid movement, Rosemary's jaw dropped open.

"Do me up?" Elizabeth said, trying to hide the mirth in her voice, as she turned her back to the other woman. Rosemary slid each button through its hole as smoothly as a warm knife through butter. The dress fit Elizabeth like a glove, except for the fact that it was several inches too short.

When she was fully encased in the elegant fabric, Rosemary opened the curtain and Dottie gasped as Elizabeth stepped out and made her way to the squat stool on which she would stand to allow for the hem to be taken out and re-pinned to fit her. As soon as she was perched there, the bell for the door jingled and Abigail walked in. She took one look at her dearest friend and her hand came to her mouth as tears sprung to her eyes.

"Oh, Elizabeth! You are without a doubt the most beautiful bride I have ever seen!" she declared, oblivious to Rosemary's look of annoyance. "I have never seen anything as elegant and beautiful as you are!"

Elizabeth turned to her friend and the tears rolled down her cheeks. "I never would have thought in a million years that I would be standing here in a wedding dress! It felt like it would never happen!"

"That man is not going to know what hit him the minute those doors open. Elizabeth, I hope you don't have any big plans for Jack tonight," she continued, laughing. "I have a feeling that we will all be stepping over him for the rest of the evening once he sees the vision you are!"

The women got to work on the hem, crying, laughing and talking about their memories together and Rosemary kept them all in stitches with stories of all of the scrapes Jack got into as a child.

"I know I shouldn't tell you this, Elizabeth, but I can't tell you how many times Charlotte would curse Jack saying, 'I can't wait until the day you have children of your own!' So, be warned, Elizabeth: With as many scrapes as that boy got into, you can have two dozen boys and still have a surplus of her wishes for payback."

"Well, I am a teacher. Little boys and their antics are no secret to me!"

"Oh, my dear, sweet friend Elizabeth. I don't think you have any idea what you are up against. These weren't just pranks, and he wasn't always little when he did them. That boy had moxy!" Rosemary took a deep breath before continuing. She began to laugh. "I think the worse thing he ever did was when we were about eleven. His father was about to go to a remote post for a few months to cover for an officer who was ill and needed to get 'out' for treatment. Jack was so angry! His baseball team was going to the town championships two days after Tom Sr. was slated to leave. So, Jack went to the livery where the RCMP kept their horses and took his father's out and rode him about 3 miles out of town. Then, he jumped off and ran home. Of course, the horse was a good boy and had started to make its way back when he was found by another officer who saw the horse on his rounds. Jack's father was fit to be tied! It had taken a switch to coerce that boy to finally talk! But, that wasn't enough of a deterrent, because the night before he was leaving, Jack took his father's red serge and dragged it through the mud. He knew that his father had to have a clean and neat uniform, so he figured that since the horse idea hadn't worked, he would give this a try."

"What?" Elizabeth cried, surprised how deviant her finance had been as a young lad.

"Oh, yes! Charlotte had cleaned and pressed it, all ready to go for the morning and Jack had waited until everyone was asleep and crept into their room and took it. He left it in the yard in a mud puddle. I don't think that boy could sit for a week between his two lashings!" Rosemary laughed. "Oh, and don't even get me started on Tom Jr. I am surprised that Charlotte did kill them both. After Tom Sr. passed, they both were really tough: Acting out, fighting, skipping school. With as tough as Charlotte is, even she had to admit defeat after awhile. She was just too grieved to deal with them effectively, so she sent them to Tom Sr.'s brother. That's the farm Jack always talks about."

"I don't believe you!" Elizabeth defended Jack's honor, her chin tipped up in defiance. Rosemary merely laughed.

After a few minutes, Elizabeth asked meekly, "So, what did his father do about going?"

"Oh, he went, all right. Right after Jack got the whipping of his life!"

"But, what about his uniform?"

"Oh! That! Well, thankfully, his father and mine were about the same size, so Tom Sr. just took one of my father's and Charlotte had to replace it while he was gone. Everyone had two, thankfully, but at a remote posting, you have to take both: You never know what might happen and it isn't easy to get another one."

"Did Jack's team win the baseball championship?"

"Goodness, no! They lost by a mile. Of course he always said it was because Charlotte wouldn't let him play. That woman is a force to be reckoned with. He went to watch," Rosemary chuckled, "but his bottom was too sore to sit in the stands!"

"But Tom was certainly much worse!" Elizabeth exclaimed.

"Oh, Elizabeth, he may have been wild for longer, but believe me, Jack had his moments. I remember hearing Charlotte talking to my mother in the kitchen not long after the boys had gone to live at the farm. Jack had gotten into trouble at school for fighting, he tried to run away and he got into his uncle's whiskey on several occasions."

"Constable Thornton?" Dottie asked in disbelief.

"Oh, yes, Dottie! He was not always the upstanding, law-enforcing man he is today!" Rosemary affirmed.

"What changed?" Abigail asked, getting sucked into the conversation.

"I am not sure, honestly. He grew up a lot when he was on the farm, though. I think his uncle was enough like his father that after his anger and disappointment dissipated a bit, he began to see his uncle as a father figure. He didn't want to disappoint him any more than he would have wanted to disappoint his own father."

The room was quite as everyone contemplated how hard it must have been for Jack and his brother to lose their father when they needed him the most.

Rosemary continued, "He also saw how hard it was on Charlotte. I guess he just matured enough to see that he wasn't helping her any by adding to her burdens. So, he decided to become a man his father would have been proud of, rather than yet another reason for Charlotte to worry. He never was really bad at any other time than when he was disappointed or angry with his father."

"Speaking of children, Elizabeth," Dottie broke in. "Have you and Constable Thornton spoken about having a family?"

Elizabeth nodded. "Yes, we spoke about it yesterday, in fact!"

"And?"

"And, he says he wants five children, six at the most!" Elizabeth's terror was evident on her face and the other women laughed.

"Remember, Elizabeth, they come one at a time!" Abigail told her gently.

"Unless we are like Carla! She had some two at a time!" Elizabeth quipped back.

Abigail began to snicker. "Yes, that probably was not the best delivery for you to witness as your first. That can happen, Elizabeth, but it is pretty rare!" Of course what Abigail didn't add was that it was even rarer that everyone survived the ordeal.

Jack was tired of pacing. He hadn't slept since leaving Elizabeth's and had already washed his clothes in his bag, swept and cleaned the jail, polished his boots and cleaned his weapon and now he was bored, lonely and anxious. He decided that he would go over and speak with Abigail to try and calm his nerves and give him something else to focus on than the long, restless hours that stretched before him, so he closed and locked the jail and walked across the street to the café.

He walked into what looked like organized chaos. The din of so many female voices at once was deafening. He stood in the doorway and watched the commotion, wondering how he was ever going to find Abigail and what he would say to her if he did. He wanted some calm, comfortable reassurance, not to be at the center of a sewing circle.

Clara looked up and saw him. "Good afternoon, Constable Thornton! The café is closed for lunch today! But, the saloon is open."

Jack heard a woman whisper to another, "Just what a man on his wedding night needs: Beans for lunch!" and the other woman laughed in response.

"Great!" thought Jack. "They are right! Now what am I going to eat?"

"Actually, I was just looking for Abigail. Any idea where she might be?"

"She is at the dress shop, Constable!" Clara said before she was interrupted by Mary asking her a question about where a certain serving dish was kept and seizing the opportunity, Jack turned and left without another word.

He walked up to the door of Dottie's shop and opened the door. His eyes were taking a minute to adjust from the bright sunshine outside to the darker interior of the establishment. But, before he could really see anything, he heard a roar of female voices.

"No! Jack! DO NOT COME IN HERE!" was yelled to him by at least three voices, maybe four.

"What? Why?" he asked, confused.

"Because it is bad luck to see the bride before the wedding, Jack! You know that!" Rosemary exclaimed dramatically.

"Rosie, really! I have been away from her for ten months! I think that we have the bad luck thing covered already!"

His eyes had adjusted while he was speaking just enough to see a white streak run further back into the store and close the curtain.

"Elizabeth?" he called out.

"Jack! You have to leave! You can't see me like this!"

"I actually came to see Abigail!" he protested. "Clara told me she was here. No one said you were here, too, or that I couldn't see you!"

Elizabeth cringed a little. He sounded sad. The whole tradition thing seemed silly to her when she already was breaking with so many of them. But, a nagging voice in her head told her that with his job, they didn't need to take any unnecessary chances.

"Jack, I am sorry, but I will see you at six, all right? I can't wait!"

"All right," he sighed. "I love you!"

He turned and shoved his hands in his pockets as he walked back towards the door and Abigail felt a rush of maternal-like love for him. He looked lost and forlorn. In truth, neither of them had their families there. Elizabeth had every female in town rallying behind her, but Jack was on his own.

She caught Dottie's eye and nodded towards the door. Dottie tipped her chin in understanding because her mouth was full of pins and Abigail ducked out onto the sidewalk.

"Jack!" she called out to him.

He turned around and smiled softly at her.

"How are you?" she breathed out as she hurried over to him.

"I am all right," he answered, but something in his demeanor told her otherwise.

"Jack, what is it? You aren't having second thoughts, are you?"

Jack looked surprised at her comment. "Not at all! I can't wait to make Elizabeth my wife!"

"Then what is it, Jack?" she probed.

"I just want to be with her. We are about to embark on one of life's greatest adventures together and I need my best friend! I love Elizabeth, of course, but she is also the first person I want to be near when I am nervous, sad, angry or excited, but no one will let me see her. To be honest, Abigail, I feel a bit lost right now." His shoulders drooped in frustration and defeat.

Abigail nodded. "Weddings really are more about the bride, that is for sure!" she answered him, patting him gently on his back.

"Apparently they are. She is so busy, but for me, every minute feels like an eternity until I can be with her!"

"Jack, have you discussed with Elizabeth what you are wearing tonight?"

"Sort of. She told me I could wear my uniform or one of my suits; that it didn't matter to her."

"So which are you choosing then?"

"I am not sure. I brushed my uniform and did my washing this morning, polished both pairs of my boots, and got out my suits. I don't know which is the most appropriate." Jack thought to himself that since Rip died, he couldn't even ask him what he should wear. Elizabeth had told him the first night he was back that Rip had passed while he was gone and Jack had felt the loss deeply.

"Why is that?"

"Well, because I always thought after I proposed that I would get married in my uniform. That's what most men on the Force do if they do get married. That's what my father did…" he trailed off.

"Oh! I see," said Abigail. "But, now you are torn because you don't want to jinx anything."

"Exactly!" Jack said, relieved that she hadn't laughed or balked at him.

"Jack, I get that you are worried about history repeating itself, but I have to ask you, and want you to answer me with logic: Do you think you are any more likely to die while on the job because of what you wore on one occasion?"

"I don't know," he whispered.

"Or, alternatively, when you are old and grey, do you think that your uniform will be what kept you alive?"

"No! I mean, it sort of makes me more of a target, doesn't it?"

"I don't know, Jack. What do you think?" He didn't answer her.

"Do you think your father would have thought that the reason he got the injury that led to his death was because of what he wore or didn't wear on his wedding day?"

"No, but…,"

"But, what, Jack?"

"In a way, it was because he wore that uniform that he died!"

"Yes, Jack. He wore that uniform to serve his fellow citizens and he died while doing that. But, do you think it was the uniform specifically, or the job that he did while wearing the uniform that caused it?"

"No, it wasn't the uniform; it was the job."

"So, last question. Will not wearing your uniform on your wedding day make you any less of a Mountie?"

"No…," he declared quietly, looking sideways at his friend.

"I lied… one more. What do you want?"

"I want Elizabeth to know she is marrying the man, not the Mountie! You told me that, Abigail!"

"I did!" she confirmed. "But, that was a long time ago, back when you were too busy being a constable to be a human!" She started chuckling, but Jack did not look amused.

She continued. "I think, Jack, what I am trying to say, is that being Jack and being a Mountie are one in the same. It is a large, important part of who you are. Your identity will not change based on what you wear or don't wear, because either way, we all know you are a constable, right?"

"Right," he agreed.

"One more question…," she said.

"Fine," he acquiesced.

"When you have a little boy of your own who is studying the wedding picture of his mother and father, do you want him to see Jack, the man, or Jack, the Mountie?"

Jack was instantly transported to all of the years he stared unceasingly at the one picture of his parents, together on their wedding day. His mother was so young and beautiful; his father was handsome and masculine. Even before he passed, Jack had looked to that picture for as long as he could remember any time he felt lonely or lost while his father was away.

He had a sort of love/hate relationship with the photo, so proud of his father, but angry, too, that his job frequently took him away from those who desperately loved and needed him most. He would get irritated when he was younger about how it seemed as though his father was choosing strangers over his family. Now, he realized, of course, that it was so much more complicated than that. He wasn't sure when that anger changed instead to only admiration. It hadn't been clear cut. But, after his mother had sent him and Tom to live with their uncle because they were too incorrigible to deal with while she was so incredibly grief-stricken, he had come home for Christmas and looked upon that photo and it was the start. It was when he felt the anger and hurt start to flow out of him and the respect rush in.

His father had sacrificed his own health, safety and family to help others: Strangers who on a regular basis didn't appreciate him because they were lawbreakers, those whom he often saved from themselves, or maybe those who just didn't like that he interfered with their lives. His father had married and had children, but he had still gotten up every morning to leave everything he loved, sometimes for long stretches of time, in order to protect and serve those he didn't even know. Jack realized in that moment of investigating the simple photo he had seen a million times before that it had taken an incredible amount of dedication and duty. While other Mounties did it with few deep connections to other human beings, his father had chosen to do it while completely cognizant of what he was sacrificing and, even more importantly, what he was asking others to sacrifice for him.

He remembered turning away from the photo, his eyes running, to see his mother standing in the doorway, watching him. She opened her arms to him and he had run to her, both of them sobbing.

"Jack," his mother had said, "you have to know that he didn't choose to be a Mountie over a husband and father; they were all the parts that made him whole. He was fulfilled and satisfied and lived the life he wanted. It took a huge sacrifice on our part, but he loved us all the more fiercely for it, and to love him was to love everything about him."

"I know, Ma," was all he could answer, partly because of his own emotions, but mostly because of the shock of seeing his mother cry. She had always been tough; unyielding. She had to be both mother and father for long periods of time in his youth and would have never chanced being seen as weak or fragile then.

Jack didn't remember how long they had sat and cried together, sometimes smiling through their tears as they remembered particularly amusing tales. He recalled that Tom did not join them that day. He had come home from a friend's and seen them on the floor in the sitting room, laughing and crying, Tom and Charlotte's wedding photo between them, and he had turned around and walked out. Jack had tried to go after him, but Charlotte stopped him, saying, "Jack, he just might not be ready yet."

And she was right. Tom had never attempted to understand their father the way Jack had come to do. He was still the same angry and hurt little boy his father had left behind and had been until he had finally allowed Jack to speak about him in Hamilton. He then realized that he could have easily been the same way if it hadn't been for that photo; the one his mother had given him on the day he had left for the academy.

Thinking about his beloved soon-to-be wife and their future children, he understood in that moment that he wanted to be immortalized in his wedding photo next his soul mate, wearing his uniform, because both represented the sum of his experiences; the person he had grown to be. The RCMP had affected his sense of self and duty for his entire life, either directly or indirectly, but Elizabeth had fulfilled a dream he didn't even know he had. He never wanted Elizabeth or his children to doubt for an instant where his sense of loyalty lay; that despite the uniform, he would always first and foremost commit to being a husband and hopefully father. Wearing his red serge for the ceremony meant that, through fate, he was joining together the two things that completed him and it signified how much he appreciated that without one, he would never have had the other. He could see God's hand in everything leading up to when he met the love of his life while doing his job and now he would do his job with and because of her continued love and support. She would truly be his partner and helpmate.

He also wanted them to know that if he succumbed in the line of duty, he would die a happy and fulfilled man, just as his father had done before him. He wanted his sons or daughters to recognize when they looked at the picture, if the inevitable came, that he was able to accomplish what he felt duty-bound to carry out, even though he knew what it could cost them, because he could count on them to be strong and carry on, just as his mother and eventually he and even Tom had managed to do.

After Rosemary, he had never imagined he would marry because he thought it would be too hard on a wife and family, but he realized in that moment that Elizabeth's being headstrong and capable was just the same way his mother had been, which is what had made it possible for his father to ride off unburdened: He had known that she didn't like it, but she was competent enough to let him go anyway, and he rested in the reassurance that life could go on without him if need be. Jack had never drawn the comparison between his mother and Elizabeth before, as on the surface, they seemed as different as night and day, but now it all made sense to him. He had thought that Rosemary would be the perfect wife because she understood the Mountie lifestyle, but it had turned out to be a rich heiress from Hamilton to truly understand that to love someone meant being selfless enough to give them the guarantee it was all right to fly.

Jack turned to Abigail. "I am wearing my uniform!" he declared.

"Good choice!" Abigail said, putting an arm around him and giving him a side squeeze.

Abigail watched him return to the jail, seemingly several pounds lighter, as if someone had lifted a burden off of his shoulders. She smiled to herself, thinking about how even as adults, people continue to grow and change, especially when there are obstacles in their paths which are difficult at the time, even seemingly insurmountable while in the thick of it, but, ultimately, those trials are what make people stronger.

On her way back to the dress shop, she ran into Frank on the sidewalk.

"Frank!" she called out to get his attention.

"Good morning, Abigail! How are you this fine day?"

"I am almost as anxious as the bride and groom, I am afraid."

"I understand. I think we are all holding our breaths, not daring to believe it is happening until they are finally wed!"

"Exactly!" Abigail agreed. "Frank, I think Jack can use a friend or two. Everyone is making such a fuss over Elizabeth and I think he feels a little lonely and pensive. Do you think you could go visit him for a little while?"

"I can do better than that." Frank explained. "I am going to round up Lee and Bill and a few others and we will take him over to the saloon for a few shots or pints and a game or two of darts."

"That sounds like a great idea!" Abigail agreed. "Thank you!"

She turned and re-entered the dress shop, her breath immediately taken from her when she saw Elizabeth in her all her finery, her face radiant with joy, more than ready for the ceremony in several hours' time.