Nathan hadn't been to Calgary for several years. It had grown tremendously since the last time he was there. He remembered it as a relatively small city; obviously it was much, much larger than Hope Valley, but that wasn't saying much. But now, it had increased exponentially in size. The streets were filled with fashionable looking people, and as he walked along them, he felt incredibly uncomfortable. Businessmen in impeccable suits chatted on corners. Small boys shouted "Extra! Extra!" as they tried to sell newspapers. And beautiful women smiled at him and tried to engage him in conversation. He merely tipped his hat and kept walking; they yelled after him things that ladies of the country would never say in public, which made him blush. He wasn't used to people being so forward. He also passed many other men dressed in red serge, and they exchanged a quick salute.

All in all, the city was loud, crowded, dirty with industrial dust, and he nearly got run over by cars three separate times. Nathan, who considered five people too large a gathering, absolutely despised it.

He hurried along the streets carrying a piece of paper in his hand. It had an address on it, the address of one of the four RCMP offices in the city. He couldn't believe a single city merited four separate RCMP offices; when he said that out loud at the first one he visited, the Constables had laughed at him, and told him that if he thought that was bad, he should go to Toronto. Nathan made a mental note to never, ever do that. He had been to Toronto once already, and once was quite enough.

A great sigh of relief exited his mouth as he finally saw the building he was looking for. This particular RCMP office was unassuming, unlike the last one he had been to, which was large and ostentatious. This one could be easily missed if you didn't know what you were looking for. It made him smile - it was exactly the sort of place he had envisioned his friend and mentor working at.

He took a deep breath and opened the door. As he walked in, he saw three other mounties sitting at desks, typing on typewriters. They gave him surprised and puzzled looks, as they had never seen him before. Calgary had a large RCMP presence but everyone pretty much knew everyone else. This man was a complete stranger to them.

"Can we help you, Constable?" One of them said as he stood up.

Nathan removed his hat and ran his fingers through his hair. "Yes, thank you Constable. I'm looking for Major Constable Harry - sorry, Harrison Porter."

The mountie narrowed his eyes suspiciously. "Is he expecting you?"

"I sent a telegram a few days ago. I'm coming in from the west, from a country town called Hope Valley. I've known the Major Constable for years."

The mountie crossed his arms over his chest, surveying Nathan. The two made eye contact and paused for a moment. Nathan could tell this mountie didn't entirely trust him, but he didn't mind. Nathan didn't trust people on first glance either.

"Alright." The mountie finally said. "Follow me."

The mountie turned and led Nathan down a narrow hallway. Nathan could feel the other mounties watching him as he left the main room.

The hallway led to a small wooden door on the left-hand side. The mountie knocked twice, then paused.

"Yes, come in." Nathan heard an exasperated sounding voice say on the other side of the door. The mountie opened it and entered the room. Nathan followed.

"Major Constable, this man says he's here to see you."

Nathan smiled at the sight of Harry. He looked exactly as Nathan remembered: gray haired, in his sixties, with a stern face and a bit of a paunch. Harry though, had not looked up, he was scribbling something on a piece of paper, a frown on his face. He didn't respond for a moment, but as soon as he finished hat he was writing he at last glanced upwards, his face a sheet of frustration and annoyance at being interrupted. It softened immediately though at the sight of Nathan, and he grinned widely.

"Nathan! Nathan Grant, joining us from the wilderness." He stood up and walked over to Nathan. The two ardently shook hands. The mountie who had accompanied Nathan looked like he would fall over from the surprise; the Major Constable was never this friendly with anyone.

"Leave us, Constable." Harry said gruffly, not even looking at the other mountie. The mountie immediately complied however, not wanting to incur the Major Constable's considerable wrath.

"And Constable?" Harry called out before the mountie had had a chance to escape. The mountie turned apprehensively.

"One of your buttons is coming loose. Fix it. And do it yourself, don't make your wife do it. Her time is more valuable than yours." Harry said disparagingly. Nathan had to fight not to smile. The mountie gulped, then rushed out of the room and closed the door behind him.

"Nathan, Nathan, Nathan." Harry said, putting his hands on Nathan's shoulders. "You look wonderful. The countryside agrees with you."

"Much more than this place, I'll tell you that much." Nathan responded.

Harry laughed. "It's gotten a lot bigger since you were last here, hasn't it? Not for the better, mind you. I never thought I'd miss the piles of horse manure lying all over the place, but I think I'd take that over the millionaires with their ridiculous open top automobiles."

"You'd like where I live. Cars are very rare. We're still fans of the old fashioned stage coach."

"Stage coach?" Harry said with a roar. "I thought they stopped using those years ago."

"They did. We're just slow to catch up with the rest of the world."

Harry laughed again, then gestured for Nathan to sit in a chair. Nathan did, and Harry returned to his chair behind his desk. He leaned back in it and folded his hands on his stomach.

"So. You've come to see me. And knowing your hatred of cities I know that this must be somewhat important."

Nathan took a deep breath. "Yes." Harry always avoided small talk, as he had better things to do. Nathan was very appreciative of that fact, as he was horrible at small talk.

"As you know, I'm posted in a place called Hope Valley, formerly called Coal Valley. I wrote you about it a year or so ago."

"Yes, I'm familiar with the place. I looked it up after you were posted there, it sounded perfect for you."

"It is, I've been very happy there. But, recently, there have been some...developments in town. The army ignored us for two years, but they've suddenly arrived with a vengeance."

"Not uncommon. The war is dragging on and they need to have a handle on production."

"Yes, and I understand that. But there's a lot about it that makes me uncomfortable. They took us over saying they needed to increase production, but we were already above average in that regard. They took our workforce, which was largely composed of middle aged men with ailments, saying that the army needed them, but then replaced them with young workers, who look more like soldiers than our townsmen ever did. They took our main manager, a man who knows the production cycle like the back of his hand, which, that's not going to help production."

Harry was listening carefully, an intent look on his face.

"And, the army had no interest in me. If anyone from town should be drafted, it's me."

Harry smiled. "Well, that one I can answer for you. They're not interested in you because I labeled you off limits."

Nathan's mouth dropped open in shock. "It was you? Can you do that?"

"Of course I can. I can't do it very often or the army won't listen to me, but on a case by case basis, I can have some influence here and there."

"Why? Why did you want me to stay?"

Harry's smile faded. "Nathan. What you're telling me now, about the production in your town, it's nothing I haven't heard before."

"What does that mean?"

"It means, this is happening more and more as the war goes on. The army comes in, takes over production, and does a poor job of it. So poor in fact, that it leads one to wonder exactly what their motives are."

Nathan was silent. Harry leaned forward across his desk, looking down at first.

"We've had some interesting reports come in from all over. Production is cited as the motivation for a takeover and a personnel replacement, but then production actually falls post-takeover. And shoddy bookkeeping. Very shoddy. Shoddy to the point where money goes missing."

"Missing?"

Harry looked up and made eye contact with Nathan. "Yes, missing. Vanishes into thin air. Problem is, nothing in life vanishes. Everything goes somewhere. And we're very interested to know where that money has gone exactly."

Nathan was beginning to connect the dots. "You think people are embezzling from the army?"

Harry paused and leaned back in his chair again. "Yes, but there's more to it than that. We've seen some hints that the army and certain branches of the RCMP might be getting a bit too comfortable with each other. An unholy alliance seems like it's forming."

Nathan was shocked. "You think the RCMP might be involved in this too? As in, they're embezzling too?"

"Think about it. People in the army, people who don't have the army's actual best interest at heart, make the case that production is falling in tiny outpost towns. These towns don't have a major RCMP presence, it's just individuals like you, so it's a lot easier to overrule local law enforcement. If they did it in big cities people would notice, so they stick with smaller areas. And the branches of the RCMP that are nearby that do have more than one person in them still aren't massive, and they could be bought off. The RCMP leaves the army alone in exchange for a cut."

Nathan's mind was a whirlwind. Harry was telling him that, not only was there corruption in the army, but in the RCMP as well. It made him think back to his brief conversation with the two army officers in the saloon - they had abruptly ended the conversation after he had suggested they go to the RCMP office to discuss what was going on. Did they think he was one of the corrupt RCMP members? Were they worried that others would somehow listen in? No other RCMP officer was stationed in Hope Valley, unless you counted Jack, and he certainly wasn't involved in any of this.

"Why haven't I heard about any arrests related to this?" Nathan finally said, with a hint of anger in his voice.

"Because thus far we don't have any concrete proof. Just speculation and a whole lot of circumstantial evidence. And that's where you come in."

"Me?"

Harry smiled at him. "I didn't keep you out of the army just because I like you. I like a lot of people, even though I don't act like it. I've seen plenty of good men go off to war. No, I singled you out because I thought this might happen. I knew your town was an industrial town, and I had my suspicions that the corruption we've seen elsewhere might come knocking on your door sooner or later."

Nathan stared at him. He finally had his answer as to why he hadn't been drafted - it was because he was the only person in Hope Valley who could investigate this.

Harry smiled again. "So, you have a job to do Constable. I suggest you get home quickly and get to it."

Elizabeth was kicking herself for not thinking of their plot of land. It should have been the first place she had looked. Of course Jack had gone there. It was isolated but not too far away, and probably gave him a lot of peace.

Jesse couldn't stay in town for long, but he had come to see her for a brief visit. She happily embraced him and gave him a cup of coffee, and he revealed that once Bill had told him that Jack was alive yet missing, he had immediately thought of the house that Jack had started to build two years prior. Jesse had been there with Jack several times before his "death" and they discussed building plans together. Jesse remembered how excited Jack had seemed, and how driven he had been to start building his new life, both literally and metaphorically. It had been the thing that made Jack's death so difficult for Jesse to comprehend at the time, the fact that all those dreams could be so abruptly and ruthlessly ended. And now that Jack had miraculously returned, Jesse figured that Jack would be eager to start up where he left off.

As soon as they said farewell and she told him she was praying for his safety, and that he should say hello to Clara for her, Jesse left, and Elizabeth ran to the plot. And as she approached, sure enough, there was Jack, working like a man possessed.

She watched him for a moment as he carried wooden beams, placed them, and hammered in nails. He was working incredibly fast, he didn't think twice about anything he was doing. He was more driven to work than she had ever seen him. The day was mild and sunny, and he had removed his outer flannel shirt and was working in just his undershirt, which revealed that he had lost a considerable amount of weight. He was still muscular, but his chest looked more hollow than normal and the waist of his pants was loose. His face looked gaunt and his eyes sunken.

He didn't see her. He didn't see anything, he was so focused on working. She was relieved to see he was alright, but knew she needed to say something to him.

She began walking towards him, slowly. The dried autumn grass crunched beneath her feet but he didn't hear it. He just kept hammering nails.

She stopped about twenty or so feet away from him. He finally reached a point where he had to get another piece of wood, and he picked it up, but once he looked up from his stack of wooden beams, he saw her, and froze.

The two just stared at one another for a moment. Elizabeth knew that she had to be the one to break the silence.

She smiled at him and took a deep breath. "I'm glad you're alright."

Jack looked away from her. His face was a mixture of awkwardness and pain. He still didn't say anything.

"Jesse told me you were here. He said you were working hard. A little too hard."

Jack abruptly then turned and placed the wooden beam he was holding in place on the structure. He reached into his pocket to take out some nails and grabbed his hammer that was lying on the ground. He went back to hammering nails into place.

Elizabeth watched him as he did this. She knew he wasn't going to talk to her unless she forced him. So, she took a few confident steps over to his side and grabbed his right arm, pulling him up to standing. He flinched at her touch and refused to meet her eyes, but didn't push her away.

"Jack. You have got to talk to me." She said sternly to him.

He said nothing.

"Jack," she repeated, with a bit more desperation and sadness in her voice this time. "Please." Still, he said nothing, but she could see his lower lip trembling slightly.

A few moments passed, and she could barely hear him as he whispered, "I'm sorry."

He then looked up at her. His bottom lip was trembling.

"I can't be near you right now. I can't be near anyone. I'm not safe to be around right now." He said, his voice cracking.

She reached out and took his face in her hands. "Jack. You are not a violent man. You are the gentlest soul I've ever met. And you are not dangerous right now, you are hurting. And you need to talk to me about it."

Jack said nothing in response. He looked down, and Elizabeth could see a single tear fall down his cheek.

She pulled his face back up so he would look at her once more. She smiled gently at him, and said softly, "Little Jack misses you."

Jack was startled at the sound of that. "Is he alright?" He asked.

She nodded. "He's fine, but he's been asking for Pa. He calls you Pa now, did you know that?"

More tears fell, and Jack couldn't contain a tiny sob. He pulled his face out of her hands and looked down, trying to hide from her. "I'm a failure, Elizabeth. I'm such a failure."

The sound of that broke Elizabeth's heart. She pulled him into a tight embrace. At first he didn't hug her back, but she could feel his arms travel gently to her back. He barely held her at all, and Elizabeth figured that he was so worried about hurting her that he was hesitant to even touch her.

Elizabeth was crying now too. "You are the farthest thing from failure, Jack. You are the the most wonderful man on Earth. I can't even believe my life sometimes, to think that I have someone like you in it."

Jack cried into her shoulder. "I feel like I'll never come back from this. My head - it never slows down. It won't let me sleep. I keep seeing things, visions that I don't know if they're real or not. There's no order to them, no reason."

"What do you see, Jack? Tell me about them."

She could feel him collapsing under his own weight. She gently guided him towards the ground so he wouldn't fall, but she never released him from her embrace. They were now seated on the ground together, her hugging him tightly, him clutching at her dress.

"People. I don't know if I know them. The wilderness at night. Heavy rain. And I hear shouting. Everyone is worried, everyone is panicking. People are scrambling to gather things up. It's dangerous, it's not safe, everyone keeps saying. I hear my own voice saying the same thing."

"What else? Tell me what else, Jack."

"I hear screaming. Someone is in pain. I see someone, and then he disappears. And I'm falling. And then I'm dizzy and I can't stand up. I'm bleeding. I touch my head and it's covered in blood. And I'm in so much pain. And then it's just black."

Elizabeth continued to hug him tightly as he went silent for a moment, sobbing into her shoulder.

"I don't know what any of it means." He said with anguish. "And I try to make sense of it all, but I just get confused again. And it makes me angry. It makes me say things I don't mean. It makes me worry about what I'll do."

Then he abruptly pulled out of her embrace, and now took her face in his.

"I'm just so sorry. I wish I had never come back."

Elizabeth took his hands firmly in hers and gave him a very stern look. "Do not ever say that to me, Jack Thornton. Don't you dare say that to me ever again."

He looked down; his sobs were deeper, the crying uncontrolled. He put his forehead in his hands.

She touched his shoulders gently. "I can't explain anything that you're experiencing right now, except to say that your mind is not your enemy here. You think it is, but it isn't. It's trying to make sense of everything too. It's trying to put things in the correct order. It's trying to help you. So don't fight it."

She continued, even as he didn't look up. "And know this, Jack Thornton. You have a family. You have me, and you'll always have me. You have a son. And we love you more than you will ever know. You will never be alone in this, ever. So you build a house, if it makes you feel better. Shout and scream, or cry, do whatever you need. If you want me to leave you here, I will, but I will be back every day to check on you. You'll never get rid of me, so don't even think about trying. You couldn't get rid of me when we first met, and you sure as hell won't be able to now."

He let out a sound that was a mixture of crying and laughing. She smiled at him, and once again gently took his face in her hands and made him look at her. His eyes were bloodshot, but appeared to have a glimmer of hope in them.

"You and me. Forever. In sickness and in health. Till death do us part. And I think as we've seen, even that is sometimes negotiable."