Chapter 35 – The Signs

Elizabeth, hobbling on her sprained ankle, swept the wooden floor of the small house for the third time. Despite Jack's assurance that the house was perfectly tidy, her stomach was still jumbled with nerves. The in-laws were arriving in less than four hours. The train would speed them along as far as Union City, and from there they would get the stagecoach to Hope Valley.

Elizabeth mentally did a check of the house. Cleaned of dust. Icebox full of food and a pitcher of iced tea. A freshly baked cake sitting atop the sparkling crystal cake stand her mother-in-law had sent as a gift. Muffins in the basket on the counter and covered with a gingham cloth napkin. Vase full of fresh water in the center of the table. Or do I say Vaahz? Oh, who cares. Curtains pulled back to let in the sunlight.

Good. This is good. It's a proper house. . . . Maybe there's no honey in the cupboard for breakfast, but its a proper house!

And the front porch furniture is perfect.

No matter what Jack said!

On his way home from work yesterday, Jack had caught Elizabeth supporting herself with a crutch and haggling with Mr. Bennett over the price of the two chairs and small table on the old man's porch.

Well, not so much haggling over the price as the fact that the man refused to sell them.

"But I need them!" Elizabeth had explained to the man after she had seen the items on the porch while walking by the Bennett house. "What is so hard to understand?! My in-laws are visiting and I only have two chairs on my front porch!"

When Jack had approached the arguing pair, Elizabeth was sure that he would be able to talk some sense into Mr. Bennett. Instead, she recognized the deadpan look he got on his face when he was trying hard not to laugh at her. And finally, his face broke into a wide grin when she whispered to him that maybe he could threaten Mr. Bennett with an arrest of some kind.

"An arrest? For what?"

"I don't know. For something. Can't you just pretend he's done something illegal? So he'll be nice to me," she had said under her breath as she leaned in close to Jack.

"No. I cannot. Why is it that we need Mr. Bennett's furniture?" he had asked between chuckles.

"Because no one else in town has anything suitable and we only have two chairs", she explained as if it were obvious. "If the weather's nice and we want to sit outside on the porch and look at the Tiffany blue ceiling and eat a meal, we need more furniture!"

"So it's Tiffany blue. I thought it was Robin's egg blue," Jack had said with a smirk.

"When your mother is here, it's Tiffany blue and don't you dare tell her anything different. I don't want her thinking I'm a small town girl."

"You are a small town girl," Jack had reminded her.

"Hush. We need more furniture. Our porch needs to be like a fancy veranda your parents are used to. I will not have your mother thinking I cannot make a proper home for her son."

"Well, move back with your crutch. The poor man looks terrified that you're going to hit him", Jack ordered as he pulled out his wallet. "And as much as I'd like to keep you locked up sometimes, this weekend is not the appropriate time for us to try that again."

Ten minutes later, Elizabeth had happily arranged the furniture on the couple's front porch while Mr. Bennett had happily stopped by the bank to deposit an exceedingly large amount of money.

Jack being rich certainly did come in handy! . . .Of course, if he wasn't rich, he wouldn't have rich parents. And if he didn't have rich parents, we wouldn't have needed the front porch furniture in the first place, Elizabeth thought with a puzzling frown as she now swept under the table.

And I swear Jack was giving me that look. The one I have a sneaky suspicion he gets when he wonders how in the world he ended up married to me. . . . Actually, it's not just a sneaky suspicion. I heard him say it aloud one time! she remembered with a crinkled brow.

When the front door opened, Elizabeth stopped moving the broom back and forth and looked up as Jack walked across the threshold. "Don't get dirt on the floor", she remarked quickly.

"Did you get fresh flowers? Where are they?" she asked, noticing his hands were empty except for two small pieces of paper. "I've got a vase ready."

"The train derailed. Outside of Colter City. A bridge had collapsed. The train went off the tracks as it braked to avoid going into the river", a stunned Jack said as he handed her two telegrams.

Elizabeth glanced at the thin sheets of paper. Trying to hurriedly comprehend the bold typed letters as Jack continued to talk.

"The first one's asking for assistance from Mounties who can get there. A train full of upset and injured passengers stuck in one town for who knows how long is chaos. The second one's from my father. Thank goodness, he and mom are fine. Just banged up a bit."

Jack had decided he would leave almost immediately. The weather was good for riding and Hope Valley was fairly quiet. The mill workers tended to be well-behaved, especially since many more had come with families. There was no reason Jack couldn't leave for a few days or even a week.

It was too late to make it to Colter City by nightfall, but he could get within an hour or two's riding distance of the town before darkness set in. The ride the following morning would be a short trip after that.

Elizabeth had decided at once that she was going with him.

"They're my family too. I can't do much here. Limping around on one leg. But I can certainly ride a horse. And then keep your mum company in Colter City."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes. And I know it's named Colter City, but it's no more than a town. It will need protection from your mother when she finds out how tiny it is."

"What do you call this?" Jack asked as Elizabeth dangled her bare feet over Jack's arm. He was carrying her back to the simple campsite which they had set up near a grove of trees after riding for hours.

Moving away from the slow moving stream, Jack nimbly stepped on the large gray rocks, careful to avoid putting his feet in the cracks or on unsteady rocks as he held Elizabeth securely in his arms.

"Call what?" she responded curiously as she kept one arm loosely wrapped around his neck.

"When a husband carries his wife with a sprained ankle to a creek to wash her hands after dinner," he answered with a chuckle. "I figure you have a quaint expression for everything else. You must have one for this."

"I do have one", she responded with a smile as she reached her other hand to his head. Her fingers touching his hair in a way that always made him tingle with warmth and feel good.

"Love."

The corners of Jack's mouth turned up in a smile and he stopped watching where he was stepping to look in her light blue eyes. He adored the way she seemed to be able to make them shine with happiness.

There was no doubt that what they had was called love.

The fire crackled as Jack put several more dead branches on the glowing flames.

"That should keep us warm for a couple hours", he said as he broke another piece of wood over his knee before adding it to the burning pile.

"You've got enough to keep us warm for two winters", she chuckled.

"You should lie down. You were up hours before me this morning. I'll stay up for a while and add some more branches before I turn in," Elizabeth offered.

"Tell me a story", Jack said. He lay stretched out on his side, his body propped up on one elbow. The moonlight shined through the fabric of the tent as the fire outside kept the animals away.

"A story? Like a fairy tale? Or a ghost story?" Elizabeth questioned.

"No. One of yours. Something I haven't read yet."

Elizabeth thought about it for a moment. "Okay," she said with a shrug. "I just finished a draft of one. Let me get my notebook."

Jack chuckled as Elizabeth got up and gingerly walked out of the tent, hobbling the short distance over to one of the horses, and pulling a leather-bound notebook out of her saddle bag. She struggled for a moment as she dislodged the book from the other contents of the saddle bag, which included an extra skirt and blouse, two pairs of socks, a hair brush, and a nightdress for when she was in Colter City.

"Why am I not surprised you have your notebook with you."

"Because you know me."

She smiled as she sat back down next to him. Leaving the tent flap open so that the light from the fire shared the entrance to the tent with the married couple.

Elizabeth bent her knees flat on the grass, her feet together and off to one side, and patted her lap, indicating for Jack to rest his head.

"This is fiction. I used my name for the character just because I haven't come up with a good name for her yet. But I used your wealthy upbringing and your mansion. I imagined what it would be like living there from stuff you've told me and from my visits. It's about why the main character became a teacher."

Jack lay on his back on the thin blanket over the matted grass. Resting his head in Elizabeth's lap as he looked up at her.

Elizabeth leaned her head down and gave her adoring husband a smile and quick kiss.

After all their time together, she still didn't know which one of them adored the other one more. She didn't think anyone could love someone as much as she loved Jack. But somehow, he always managed to make her believe that he loved her just as much.

"You try to fall asleep while I read", she said sweetly.

The fire provided limited light, but Elizabeth knew the story so well that she realized that she didn't really need her notebook.

Jack relaxed and closed his eyes. Settling down in comfort to listen to his wife's voice as she read her latest story in the otherwise quiet woods.

The story of why a wealthy young lady, the daughter of a shipping magnate, from the city of Hamilton, Ontario, Canada became a teacher.

The Signs by Elizabeth Thornton

Elizabeth Thatcher grabbed the other girl's hand and pulled her along as she ran from the front parlor room in her frilly new dress, which had been purchased from the finest boutique in Hamilton especially for her 7th birthday.

"Upstairs. Hurry. Before my mother makes me sit and talk to Aunt Agatha."

"Can I see all your presents?" the brown-haired girl in the simple frock asked excitedly and slightly out of breath as they reached the top of the grand staircase and then hurried down the long hallway.

"Of course! You're my best friend!" Elizabeth responded. "I'm sorry you couldn't come to my party. Grown-ups are so stupid."

Alice, the girl in the hand-me-down dress wasn't upset that she hadn't been invited to Miss Elizabeth Thatcher's birthday party. She knew that it wouldn't have been proper. Just like it had never occurred to the adults to let Elizabeth attend Alice's simple birthday celebrations across town in the tenement where she lived.

Although she was only seven, Alice had already learned the basic facts of life. Elizabeth was rich. Alice was poor. It was what it was. Besides, the cook had saved her a piece of Elizabeth's birthday cake and it even had a flower made of sugar paste on it! Cook had promised to send it home with her when Alice's mother, Mrs. Sutton, who worked in the mansion, finished her duties for the day.

"Here, you hold this dolly and I'll hold this one", Elizabeth said as she grabbed the dolls and climbed onto her bed. "I'll read to us first."

"Is that a new book you got as a present?" Alice asked as she squished her body up next to Elizabeth. An expensive doll on each of their laps. "Ooh, I like the pictures. They're so pretty."

"I'll read but I want you to try too. Okay?"

"Pssst. Alice? Can you hear me?" A ten-year old Elizabeth called down the dumbwaiter shaft. Her voice echoing as it traveled through the shaft in the wall meant to carry trays of food between the first floor kitchen and the elegantly decorated room upstairs.

"What's up?" Alice responded conspiratorially as she leaned into the small paneled opening in the kitchen wall. Her head covered with a simple maid's kerchief.

"My French teacher fell asleep again. I'm going to come down to play. Can you get away?"

Alice hesitated. "I still have to polish the silverware. Your parents are having a big dinner party tomorrow night."

Five minutes later, the two girls sat at the small table in the back of the kitchen. "I hate polishing but it's better than French lessons", Elizabeth giggled as she wiped a cloth along a silver candlestick.

"I wish you could come to my lessons with me. Maybe not French because you don't need that. But I wish you were with me for reading and writing and math. Violet's so irritating and Julie never pays attention. Promise me you'll keep practicing reading at home, okay?"

"I promise", Alice answered solemnly as she picked up the gravy boat and began to rub it vigorously with the gray cloth in her hand.

"Miss Elizabeth, is there something I can get for you?" the plump woman in the apron asked as the thirteen year-old daughter of the wealthy family that employed her walked into the kitchen.

"No thank you. I'm just looking for Alice." Elizabeth walked over to the pots full of bubbly liquid on the stove and sniffed the air. "That smells delicious."

"Thank you, Miss. It will be ready for serving in another 30 minutes. Alice is upstairs refilling the fireplaces for the evening.'

'Can I have a cookie for each of us?"

The friendly cook looked at Elizabeth and sighed. She didn't have the heart to remind her that Mr. and Mrs. Thatcher had strongly advised their daughter to stop spending unnecessary time with the servants. The servants were meant to serve. Nothing more.

"Of course, dear. But Alice has her chores to do so try not to distract her too long."

"I won't. I'm just going to loan her another book."

Elizabeth found Alice in the master bedroom. Kneeling on the hearth as she cleaned out the ashes from the fireplace.

"I brought you another book" Elizabeth said as she sat down on her parents' bed, watching Alice take the small hand broom and sweep the soot into a dustpan, before dumping it into her ashcan.

Alice, ashy smudges on her face, smiled at her best friend and walked over to her. "Thanks. Here, you put it in my apron pocket. I don't want to touch it and get it dirty."

"Did you finish reading the last one I lent you?" Elizabeth asked as she put the novel into Alice's apron and handed her a cookie.

"Of course! I told you I would."

"What did you think of it?"

"It was very good."

"What did you think of the heroine?"

"You tell me first!"

That's how it would usually go.

Year after year.

As Alice and Elizabeth would sit in Elizabeth's room or as she would follow the working girl around, Elizabeth would go on and on about characters in novels. Telling Alice what she liked about each one.

Elizabeth was always thrilled that Alice felt the same way. They liked the same characters. Disliked the same characters. Alice said she even cried at the same parts of the books.

Although Alice preferred to talk to Elizabeth about real people, like the boy who delivered fresh vegetables to the stately mansion, or the wealthy boys who had shown an interest in Elizabeth now that she had grown from a young girl to a young lady, she would smile and indulge Elizabeth, letting her talk about her beloved books first.

Always the books first, and then real life second.

Elizabeth conspiratorially grabbed the other girl's hand and pulled her along as she walked out of the front parlor room in her new velvet and satin dress, which had recently arrived from Paris in time for Elizabeth's 18th birthday.

"Upstairs. Hurry. Before my mother makes me sit and talk to boring ladies from the Country Club."

Alice, in her uniform, smiled as they strolled down the long upstairs hallway to Elizabeth's bedroom, with its flowered wallpaper, thick rug, and chandelier in the center of the ceiling.

'I told my parents I'm thinking about maybe going to Teacher's college," Elizabeth announced as she led Alice to the bed and climbed up onto it. Not caring that she was wrinkling her fancy new frock or that Alice was getting a little bit of soot on the bedspread.

"What did they say?"

"That I don't need to go to college. That I need to practice my manners, my dancing, my conversation skills, and start accepting more invitations to social functions", Elizabeth announced in a huff before getting pensive.

"Maybe they're right," Elizabeth continued. "Violet says I should find a nice duke or lord and get married like she plans to do. I suppose it would be much easier. And maybe the world doesn't need any more teachers. But enough about me. The whole day has been about me. What have you been doing? We haven't talked in months!"

Alice smiled. "Bobby has hinted that once we get enough money saved up, we'll get engaged."

Elizabeth squealed and hugged her best friend. "I've missed you! I had no idea that while I've been traveling, you've been courting so seriously! When do you think he'll have enough money saved up?"

"I'm going to get another job to help. At a factory. In the evenings."

"But you already work ten hours a day here", Elizabeth said with a furrowed brow.

"Alice", she began again hesitantly. "Don't you think about getting a job other than manual labor? Or getting more schooling? You love to read! We've always had such great times talking about books and characters! You're so smart!"

Alice got off the bed and smiled at Elizabeth.

"Hush now, Elizabeth. A life of schooling is for you. It's not meant for me. I know my station in life. Now I've got to run down to the kitchen. Happy Birthday, best friend. I left you a present. It's on your dresser."

Three months later, Elizabeth hurried down the staircase, almost tripping in her high heeled shoes. She was late for breakfast again. It was the third time this week.

If father complains about me oversleeping, I'll just blame him. It's his own fault that I was out so late last night. I was just taking his and mother's advice. Socializing. And the boys at the Country Club are a lot of fun. I danced so much my feet still hurt!

Mr. Thatcher, who was standing by the large window in low conversation with the family butler, quickly turned when he saw his middle daughter walk into the dining room. "Elizabeth."

"I know. I know. I'm late. It's your fault, father", Elizabeth said as she sat down at the long table and unfolded the cloth napkin, placing it properly on her lap.

"Tea, please", she said aloud out of habit without bothering to look around.

When the butler reached for her cup and saucer, and poured the hot liquid from the silver tea pot, Elizabeth looked around in surprise. Noticing for the first time that the usual servants who waited on them were not present in the dining room.

In fact, now that she thought about it, Elizabeth hadn't seen any servants other than the butler in the house that morning.

"Is this some holiday I don't know about? Where is everyone?" she asked humorously as she picked up a perfectly polished teaspoon and placed some sugar from the silver sugar bowl into her cup.

"Elizabeth", her father said solemnly.

Before continuing, he nodded to the butler, who gave a slight nod in return and quickly left the room. Closing the heavy French doors behind him.

"I don't know how to say this, so I'll just come right out", Mr. Thatcher said as he looked sympathetically at Elizabeth.

"Don't tell me we're out of pancakes. Or mother's got another headache and needs me to keep her company", Elizabeth said frivolously as she took a sip of tea.

"The chambermaid girl. Alice. The one you're so fond of. She killed herself last night."

The rest of the day was a blur as a steady stream of tears refused to stop flowing from Elizabeth's eyes.

At Elizabeth's insistence, her father had the police station send an officer to the mansion to explain what had happened.

The officer, surprised at the request and wondering why the wealthy family would care about the suicide of a simple working-class girl, came anyway.

The uniformed man tried not to steal glances at the paintings on the walls, the thick Persian rugs, the opulent curtains and furniture, and the bookcases filled with enough books for a small library, as he stood in Mr. Thornton's study and told a sobbing Elizabeth the simple facts as he knew them.

Alice, on her way home from her night-shift at the paper and pulp factory had been taking a short-cut through some alleys. The gas streetlights illuminated most of the long narrow space between buildings, making Alice favor it as a quick way home.

The eighteen-year old girl, tired from working 16 hour days in a life of poverty, had only ever taken the short-cut at night. She had not seen the city workmen toiling away during daylight. Pounding tall wooden poles into the ground. Stringing electrical lines for the city's brand new trolley system.

But even in the light from the moon and the gas streetlights, she would have seen the construction site. Probably not the wires that ran through the air making them invisible as they blended into the darkened sky.

And, if she wasn't looking down, she likely would have missed the thick long black cable, the same color as the night, which lay in front of her. Carrying the high energy current down the street for the trolley cars. The first of its kind in Hamilton.

But she would have seen the signs.

High Voltage

Electricity

Danger. Stay away.

Alice had walked past the signs warning of danger of the new electrical lines. Warning that electrocution and death would occur if the wires or cable were touched.

Without a moment's hesitation, Alice had walked determinedly past the signs and straight to the wires.

Killing herself instantaneously.

The chauffeur, dismayed at the having to drive his employer's educated but still innocent young daughter to the middle-class working neighborhood, refused to wait with the car outside the tenement building in the rundown section of the city.

Instead, he insisted on escorting Elizabeth up the three flights of steps, and steadied her as she faltered in surprise when a rat ran past her feet. Elizabeth quickly jerked back her feet, clad in shoes from the finest cobbler in Hamilton, before taking a deep breath and continuing.

A young man, wiping tears from his eyes, passed Elizabeth in the narrow hallway. She thought he looked familiar and then realized that he delivered vegetables to the mansion twice a week. Bobby.

As Elizabeth, tears filling her eyes, hugged Alice's mother and allowed the woman to cry in her arms, she looked at the sparse room. Thinking of Alice.

Alice had been happy. In love. Working hard to afford getting married. Elizabeth couldn't understand why Alice had walked into the live electrical wires. It didn't make any sense. But it didn't seem the right time to question her grieving mother. So Elizabeth held the woman tightly to her chest and looked at her simple but clean surroundings.

Over the years, the best friends had spent countless hours giggling and sharing cookies in the Thatcher kitchen. Whispering secrets in Elizabeth's elegant bedroom. Disclosing dreams of the future as they ran through the carpeted hallways of the mansion.

And yet, Elizabeth had never seen where Alice lived.

Ten minutes later, Elizabeth gave Mrs. Sutton another hug and was almost to the door, when she saw "A Tale of Two Cities" lying on the small table.

It was the last book she had loaned Alice.

Elizabeth's hands shook as she reached out and picked up the book. She wiped away a tear as she turned to Alice's mother.

"I wonder if she liked it," Elizabeth said with a sob.

Alice's mother looked solemnly at Elizabeth and paused before speaking.

"She wouldn't know. Not until she talked to you."

"What do you mean?" Elizabeth asked in puzzlement

"She couldn't read."

"Of course she could read! She read all the time. All the books I've loaned her," Elizabeth countered.

"No, Miss." The tired and broken woman shook her head as she spoke.

"She pretended to. You were her best friend and she loved spending time with you. She didn't want to disappoint you by telling you she couldn't read. She didn't have schooling like you. She had to work all those hours when you was busy learning"

"But we talked about characters!" Elizabeth exclaimed. Refusing to believe that she had been blind to Alice's deception.

"She just agreed with whatever you said. Alice loved you like family. She wished she could have read for you. Really she did. But Miss Elizabeth, that's not our life. Reading and writing. She ain't got no need for schooling. Schooling don't buy food and pay bills. And she didn't have no time to learn. Public school ain't so good. No heat in some of the buildings and not enough books. Teachers too strict or else don't care none."

"She couldn't read?" Elizabeth whispered.

"No, Miss Elizabeth. She couldn't read. She hid it real good. But she couldn't read."

Suddenly Elizabeth felt herself become nauseated and her knees weakened from grief. She placed her hands on the cheap wood table, supporting herself as she tried to breath.

Through her tears, she looked in dismay at Alice's mother. "An accident?"

The older woman nodded sadly.

"The police told me that Alice walked right past the warning signs. A sign not to go near the line because of electricity. And another that said 'High Voltage." Elizabeth said with a sob.

Alice's mother nodded again. "They might as well have said "Free Kittens" for all the good they did her. She had no idea what they said. She couldn't read them. She was just trying to get home in a hurry."

The next morning, Elizabeth informed her parents that she was applying to Teacher's College, with or without their approval. And when she had her teacher's certification, she would not teach at a wealthy boarding school or in the mansions of the rich that lined the boulevard on the edge of the City's great park.

Elizabeth Thatcher would teach the children who lived like Alice had lived.

The End

Elizabeth ran her fingers though Jack's hair, bending down to kiss him gently.

"Are you awake?" she whispered.

"Yeah. That was good. Sad, but good", he said quietly, keeping his eyes closed. "But there's no truth to it, right?"

"Not a smidgen", Elizabeth answered with a smile. "Just my imagination."

"I'm glad it's not true. You know, you almost had me crying there."

Elizabeth chuckled. "A strong brave Mountie like you? Almost made to cry by a simple school teacher like me?"

"I've told you before that you're anything but a simple school teacher. And I'm pretty sure that won't be the last time you almost make me cry."

"Hmm. Is it wrong for me to like having that power over you?" a pleased Elizabeth asked.

Jack gave a quiet chuckle. "You've had power over me since the first day we met."

Elizabeth gazed at the drowsy Jack and began to again run her slender fingers slowly through his auburn hair. She loved that it was shorter on the sides, and, when he hadn't combed it yet in the morning and it was due for a trim, he had a slight wave in the front without even trying.

The light from the fading campfire and the moon made Jack's facial features impossible to clearly see, but it didn't matter. Elizabeth knew by memory his square jaw. The wrinkles at the corners of his eyes when he laughed.

She knew that the dimple on his left cheek was inexplicably deeper than the one on his right cheek. And that when he didn't shave for four days and his face had become scruffy with an incoming beard, he had a very small spot on the right side where his beard didn't fully come in.

The man she loved. Who loved her back. The man she didn't even know existed a year ago was contently falling asleep, using her lap as a pillow for his weary head.

"You're staring at me, aren't you?" he murmured with his eyes still closed.

"Yes", she said. Her voice a mere whisper. "I can't help it. Now, shhh. Go to sleep."

After a few quiet moments, Elizabeth thought Jack had nodded off. She was surprised when he sleepily spoke. "So, what made you want to become a teacher? You never told me. Was it something sad like that?"

"Oh goodness no."

"What was it?"

"I burned down a barn, tripped over some ducks, and choked on a muffin."

Jack opened his eyes. "You what?!"

Elizabeth laughed. "That's a story for another night. It's late."

"Then come cuddle with me", Jack murmured as he reached his arm to her neck, gently pulling her lips down to his.

Up next: Chapter 36

Dear Readers:

This is my idea of a backstory as to why Elizabeth in the WCTH TV show became a teacher.