Chapter 48 Means of Communiation Part 1

Elizabeth, clad in her flannel nightgown, flipped over onto her side and glanced at the body next to her.

He was lying on his stomach. His cheek with its morning stubble at the edges was pressed into the pillow. His eyes were still closed but Elizabeth recognized the slight movements he always made in the morning when he was awakened from her shifting body but not yet willing to open his eyes.

Already awake for fifteen minutes, she had remained under the thick bed covers.

Thinking.

Wishing that Jack would hurry up and get up for the day.

How can he sleep so long? It's almost six o'clock. Okay, so maybe he doesn't need to get up for another hour or so. But still, I'm wake.

The sun had just made it over the horizon. The house was quiet. Even Rip was still asleep.

Saturday morning. No school. No church services. Nowhere she had to be. Except a quick trip to the Cooper farm to pick up milk from her cow. But she would go in the afternoon. The Coopers still hadn't totally forgiven Elizabeth for the disaster at their farm months earlier when there had been a murder of crows, but they were grateful for the cow-for-milk deal which Elizabeth had arranged. She and Jack paid the food bill for the cow and allowed the Coopers to keep 2/3 of the milk in exchange for the Cooper's boarding and milking the animal.

Elizabeth tried to go back to sleep but she had a more pressing concern than a cow keeping her awake. Something else had been on her mind since she woke up.

"Jack?"

"Jack?"

"Mmmm"

"Are you awake?"

"No."

"Jack, do you love me?"

"You know I do", he mumbled as he kept his eyes closed.

"Do you love this baby?"

"You know I do."

His eyes remained closed.

"How much do you love us?"

Jack sighed and gave up trying to sleep. He shifted his body and put his legs over the side of the bed.

"What do you want?" he asked as he sleepily rubbed his face.

"Oatmeal. With cinnamon, please. And maybe some apple chunks in it", she replied eagerly as she sat up.

She shivered and rubbed her hands along her arms. "I would have gotten up but it's too cold outside of bed."

"Thank you!" she called out as Jack, without another word, put on his slippers and stumbled his way across the dark room. "I'll wait here patiently for you!"


Twenty minutes later, Jack handed her a ceramic bowl. The spoon sunk into the warm cinnamon oatmeal with apple chunks.

Jack crawled back into bed, pulled up the covers to his chest, turned onto his side, and closed his eyes before wearily speaking.

"I put more wood in the stove. The house will be warm in a few minutes. Wake me up in two hours."

"I love you, Jack."

"I know you do. I love you too," he mumbled.


Two hours later, Elizabeth had finished reading the newest novel she had received in the mail earlier that week and was now scribbling on a pad of paper as Jack began getting ready for the day.

As with most things, Elizabeth had decided to go about the naming of their baby in a logical manner. The most efficient way was to organize possible names by categories.

Yesterday it had been flowers as possible names. Daisy. Rose. Violet. Poppy. Iris. Lily.

Before that it had been Christmas holiday names. Holly. Noelle. Natalie. Chrissy. Christopher. Nicholas.

Before that it had been famous literary characters. Juliet. Oliver. Fitzwilliam. Elinor.

Today she had decided to focus on virtues. It would only work for girl names. Tomorrow she would focus on boy names. Maybe military heroes for them.

Elizabeth looked at the words she had written on the paper in her hands.

Grace. It means kindness. Poise. My mom would love it, but I bet Jack's mom would feel slighted. We could do Grace Charlotte. But she'd probably insist that her name came first. Charlotte Grace.

Joy. Hmm. Maybe. But if she ever had a bad day, people would tease her about not having any joy that day. No. I don't like it. Too short.

Faith. Yuck. Something about it just doesn't seem right.

Prudence. People would think she was wise. That'd be good. Except it sounds too much like prude. Or a prune. That's call her Prude the prune. Or something awful like that.

Jack came back from brushing his teeth and pulled a shirt from the closet. He looked over at Elizabeth, who held the pencil between her lips and was looking pensive as she sat in bed.

"What are you doing?" he asked as he finished buttoning his shirt.

"Thinking of possible baby names."

"What's today's category?"

"Virtues. What do you think of Hope?"

"I think our daughter would think that they named this town after her. We'd have one very conceited little girl. Not to mention confused. She'd constantly be looking over her body for feathers."

"Feathers?"

"Yeah. From that poem you like so much."

When Elizabeth gave him a confused look, Jack continued.

"Feathers. Hope is the thing with feathers. Imagine what that'd do to our little girl. She'd think we had plucked her and made pillows out of her feathers. That's enough to send any child to a psychiatrist."

"Hush. I'm being serious. We need some names. Oooh, I've got it! The perfect name for a girl! Patience." Elizabeth looked up from her paper and her face broke into a grin.

"Patience?"

"Patience is a virtue. Love is patient! First Corinthians!"

"Patience?"

"It means –"

"I know what it means!"

"You just don't have any", Elizabeth muttered.

"I heard that. And I have plenty of it. I'm married to you, aren't I?" Jack chuckled and then dunked as the pillow thrown by Elizabeth narrowly missed his head.

"Hey, careful. I'm the only husband you've got. What other virtue names are on the list?"

"What do you think of Charity?"

"My mom would have a heart attack. Her granddaughter named Charity? Like she's some poor beggar child? Not going to happen."

"Good point."

"Now a rich sounding name like Tiffany might just work."

"Ooh. That's an idea! I do like the color Tiffany blue. And you gave me that Tiffany locket that I adore. And your parents have that Tiffany lamp with the beautiful blue stained glass in the library."

"A lamp? You remember a lamp in my family's library?"

"Because you kissed me next to it. It was the second time we went to your family home. I had found the library and was amazed by all the books. And then I saw the lamp with it's beautiful shade. I was running my hand on the intricate glass panels and you came in and kissed me. Every time I think of a Tiffany lamp, I think of that kiss."

Elizabeth sighed deeply as she thought of that moment. "It was a wonderful kiss. I was still all nervous about us and you made me feel all swooshy."

"Swooshy?" Jack chuckled. "Is that even a word?"

"It is. And I remember that day even if you don't" she said defiantly.

"Who says I don't remember it?"

"What did you say after you kissed me?" Elizabeth challenged.

Jack pulled his suspenders up over his shirt and onto his shoulders. He carried his boots over to the bed and sat down on the mattress, sinking it in a few inches.

He slipped his right foot into a boot and then paused instead of putting on the other one.

"If you were a character in a book, I would never put that book down. I would read it over and over again until I had every word memorized and I could close my eyes and picture you forever. No one has ever written a book that could hold my attention as much as you do."

Jack kept his back to a silent Elizabeth as he slipped on his other boot and then looked over his shoulder at her and began chuckling again. "Are you crying?"

Elizabeth wiped her eyes on the bed sheet. "You remember."

"I remember everything about us. About you. I've told you before. You're a hard person to forget."

She sniffled, wiped her eyes again, and shook her sentimentality away before speaking. "Tiffany Thornton might work. But today's list is virtues. I'll put Tiffany on my list of names to consider tomorrow when I do names that mean something really special to us."


Hours later, Jack walked quietly in the front door of the row house. Instead of announcing himself immediately, he hesitated and closed the door first. He didn't want Elizabeth to be surprised when she saw how he looked.

"Elizabeth, don't get upset, okay. I'm fine," he called out as he hung his worn leather jacket on the hook by the door.

She came down the staircase holding a small basket of laundry and looked at him curiously.

"What happened?"

"I had to break up a fight. I accidentally got punched."

When he turned to face her and she saw his swollen eye, he thought he saw a shadow of pain and worry cross her face, but it was gone in an instant.

"Well, I've been there before. Remember when I got between those two boys my first week here? Abigail warned me to never step between two coal boys when they're mixing it up."

"So, you're not even the least bit worried about me? Where's my doting concerned wife?" he asked in a teasing voice.

Elizabeth laughed. "You're fine. You can take care of yourself. But I'll get you some witch hazel to put on it."

She gave him a peck on the cheek and then moved towards the kitchen. "Follow me, my handsome husband."


The smell of soup simmering on the stove filled the warm and cozy kitchen.

Elizabeth set down the laundry basket on the table and moved to the cabinet. Looking on the medicine shelf, she noticed that Jack's occupation meant she was frequently running low on some supplies. She'd have to remember to pick up some more salves and aspirin next time she went to the mercantile.

Retrieving the glass bottle of astringent anti-inflammatory compound, she poured some on a dishcloth and motioned for Jack to sit down.

She stood between his strong legs which were encased in his work pants, and looked down at his face which was tilted up towards hers. He placed his hands on her ever-growing waist.

"How was your day?"

"Better than yours from the looks of it." She smiled as she dabbed the damp cloth on his eye.

"Ouch"

"Sorry."

"You could kiss me to take away the pain," he suggested with a grin.

Her lips were soft and warm as she touched his mouth, letting them linger for a moment before returning her attention to his eye.

"How's the name choice going?"

"I've decided. If it's a girl, I like Jacklyn. After you."

"After me?"

"Yep. It's final. If we have a daughter, she's going to be named Jacklyn."

"What if I want to name her after you? A little Elizabeth?

"I thought one Elizabeth was all you could handle."

"Good point. How's the boy name list coming along?"

"That's easy. It's going to be Jack junior if we have a son."

Jack chuckled. "I'm sensing that you like the name Jack."

"I love the name Jack. "

"Then I'm very glad that it happens to be my name."

"It is a nice coincidence," Elizabeth agreed with a smile.


The witch hazel helped reduce the inflammation around the eye as well as color of the skin damaged by broken blood vessels. The kisses from Elizabeth had helped even more.

Two days later, Jack was still using the excuse that he needed tender loving care for his eye to wheedle extra attention out of Elizabeth. She ruffled his hair in a way he adored and kissed his forehead as she served him a plate of pancakes and then took a seat across from him at the kitchen table.

"Do you want apple juice? It's sweet and delicious."

"No, thanks. Coffee's fine."

"I wasn't talking to you, Jack."

Jack lowered the newspaper and looked around the room and then looked at Elizabeth who was staring at her stomach.

"Elizabeth, I'm sure our baby is smart, but you really can't expect to hold a conversation with it. If that's what you're doing."

"I'm trying something. One kick means yes. Two kicks mean no. I ask a question and wait for a response."

Jack raised his eyebrows and smiled at her from across the table. "How's your conversation going?"

"Not as well as I'd like so far. But we're just getting started."

"Good luck with that." He snickered and then took a sip of his coffee as he went back to reading the paper.

"You should like it", she countered. "You're the Mountie."

"Me? Why me? What does being a Mountie have to do with it?"

"It's like Morse Code. But instead of dots and dashes, we're using kicks", she explained happily. "I wouldn't be surprised if this is where the idea for Morse code came from. Probably Samuel Morse's wife came up with it. And, of course, as usual, a man stole the credit for it."

Jack set down the paper and gave Elizabeth an amused look. "Morse code has nothing to do with babies kicking in the womb. Samuel Morse wanted to transmit messages quickly over long distances. He got the idea from witnessing experiments in electromagnetism."

Elizabeth scrunched up her face in defiance. "How do you know?"

"Because he was a portrait painter before he invented the telegraph system. And, as we've already discussed, I know a thing or two about portrait painters. Or do we want to discuss that again?"

Elizabeth blushed. "Hush". He's never going to let me forget about that stupid nude portrait idea!


Elizabeth went straight from the schoolhouse at the end of the day to the jailhouse. The building was empty. Just as she hoped. She wanted to be in and out before Jack was back from rounds.

All day she had been thinking about the box of chocolates she had received in the mail four days earlier from Jack's mother. Elizabeth, having sworn off candy during her pregnancy and wanting to avoid temptation, had insisted that Jack hide the box of expensive decadent Belgian candies until after she had the baby.

But that had been four days ago. Four days of thinking of the sweet rich chocolate. The fillings of cherry brandy. The marzipan centers. The gooey caramel that stretched between two halves as you pulled a piece apart.

Elizabeth crossed the room, glancing at the two cells. She passed the bulletin board with its Wanted Posters and approached the desk. On the top surface were two more Wanted Posters that had come in the mail. The words Armed and Dangerous in bold black letters were stark against the white paper.

Why can't criminals stay in their own darn areas! Elizabeth grumbled as she turned the papers upside down so she didn't have the haggard faces looking at her.

She glanced at the clock on the wall and then quickly began pulling open the desk drawers. If Jack found her with the chocolates, he'd tease her endlessly.

And probably take them away because I told him to.

Luckily Jack rarely locked his drawers. In fact, he had been complaining that some of the drawers were broken.

Rummaging through the drawers, she pushed aside the small boxes of ammunition. The extra pair of handcuffs. A rolled-up cloth bandage.

What did he do with the box? It's got to be here somewhere.

The banging of the door as it closed caused her to jump in surprise.

"Jack! You scared me."

Elizabeth slammed the bottom drawer shut.

"Looking for something in particular?" he asked as he walked across the wooden floor.

His leather boots made an impressive, slightly intimidating, thud sound as he came towards Elizabeth.

"A pencil", she squeaked like a criminal caught in the act. A very inept criminal.

"A pencil?"

"So I could leave you a note."

"There's a pencil right there on the desktop", he noted with a nod of his head.

Darn. How could I not see that? What else was I looking for? Other than the real answer.

"Umm. Yes, but that is just an ordinary pencil. I was looking for a colored pencil."

"A colored pencil?"

"Yes."

"What color?"

What color? What color?!

"A red one", she answered. Saying the first thing that came to her mind as she looked at his uniform. My, he's impressive looking. . . and daunting. No wonder criminals confess.

"A red one?"

" Or a pink one. For . . . for. . . like Valentine's day."

"It's not Valentine's day," he observed. "Not even close."

Why is he so observant?!

"No, of course it's not. But I meant red or pink like you would use in a Valentine's day card. And really shouldn't we celebrate Valentine's day more often?"

"Shouldn't we celebrate Valentine's day more often?" he asked skeptically with raised eyebrows.

"Lots of holidays are celebrated for more than one day!"

"Name one."

Name one. Name one. Darn. He's good at this interrogation thing.

"Um. That's really not important now, Jack. The important thing is that I wanted to leave you a note."

"I'm here now. You can just tell me what you wanted to write down. In the note. The note you wanted to leave me."

Elizabeth got the distinct impression from the gleam in Jack's eyes and that he wasn't buying any of her story. But there was no going back now, so she continued anyway.

"Um. Yes. Well, I just wanted to um . . . tell you that I love you. That's why I wanted the colored pencil. To make it more special."

"That was nice of you. I always like to hear that. But couldn't it wait until I got home."

"No. I just really wanted to tell you now. When I get a thought in my head, you know, I just have to do something about it. I love you!"

"I love you too. But you know that I always keep my sketching pad and colored pencils in the top left-hand drawer. You should have looked there first."

"Um, yes. But I was doing everything backwards today. So I had to start on the right-hand side." Oh, God, Why did I say that. How stupid!

Jack gave her a strange look. "Doing everything backwards today?"

"Yes. It's a pregnancy thing."

"The same pregnancy that causes you to want oatmeal with cinnamon and apples in the morning, toe rubbings in evening, chocolate milk every day, and makes your cry for no reason when you read my old love notes to you."

"Yep. That pregnancy. Well, I guess I'll be off now."

Elizabeth started to walk away but found herself unable to move. Glancing down, she saw that her skirt fabric had caught in the drawer when she had slammed it shut.

"Is there anything else, Elizabeth? Because I still have some work to do. And you're just standing there." Jack observed as he crossed the room and placed his holster with its weapon on the wall hook.

"Jack!"

"Elizabeth, I know how handsome I am and how you find it difficult to keep your hands off of me. How did you put it? Like electricity. But I've got some family contracts to look at and send out in the mail. And then I promised Bill that I'd ride over to check some mudslide areas with him. So, if you're done telling me that you love me, I'll meet you at home in a few hours."

"Jack", she wailed. "My skirt is caught. In your bottom drawer."

His dimples showed as he couldn't help his face from breaking into a smile. "That one has the broken lock. If you slam the drawer shut, it clicks in place."

"Why didn't you tell me?!" Elizabeth stomped her foot in frustration.

"I like seeing you as my prisoner."

"Jack!"

Jack shrugged. "I had no idea that you would be looking for a pink or red pencil so you could leave me a note," he innocently explained as he unlocked the drawer and removed her skirt.

He gave her a kiss on the cheek before smirking. "By the way, the box of Belgium chocolates you're secretly looking for is in our dresser under my socks."


"Have you talked to Elizabeth about getting out?" Bill asked Jack as they rode slowly out of town toward the hills which had been saturated with recent rain.

"Not yet. I'm not sure how to bring it up. She loves living here in Hope Valley. Teaching."

"How's she feeling with the pregnancy?"

"Good. Really good."

Jack paused before continuing.

"Did you know that Samuel Morse's first wife, the love of his life, died shortly after giving birth? That's why he invented the telegraph system. Because he was away painting a portrait when she became ill and by the time he received the letter and got home, she was dead and buried. He never got over the fact that it took him days to be notified."

"God, that's depressing. I wouldn't mention that fact to Elizabeth. She's got enough to worry about without having to think about something going wrong with childbirth."

"Believe me. I'm not."

The men rode in silence for another minute.

"He really invented the telegraph because his wife died after childbirth?"

"Yeah. Let's not talk about it anymore."

"Agreed. But I think you should talk to Elizabeth about you leaving the Force. What can go wrong with that?"

Up Next: Chapter 49 Part 2