Chapter 49 - Means of Communication Part 2

"Jellybean, do you got a minute? There's something I want to talk to you about."

Jack stood in the doorway of the kitchen and watched as Elizabeth, a white apron tied around her waist and a large spoon in her hand, moved efficiently between the stove and the counter.

"If you're worried about the large bill at the mercantile, I know I should have talked to you about it first. But the Brensons are down on their luck, so I picked up some stuff for them."

Jack shook his head. "No, that's fine. I'm glad you did. It's not that. It's something else."

"I know. I know. I accidentally shrunk your beige wool sweater from your mom. I'm sorry. I shouldn't have left it in the hot water. I shouldn't have used hot water at all but I was trying to get the blood out from where you had cut your arm the other day."

"No. It's not that."

"And I'm sorry about getting honey in your boot. I think I got most of it out."

"It's not that either. In fact, I didn't even know about that. When the heck did you do that? How the heck did you do that?"

"Umm. Never you mind. What did you want to talk to me about?"

"I've been spending a lot of time working on the Crate business –"

"I know. What's going on with that? Can't your father and Tom handle it?"

"I should have talked you before. I just wanted to think about it for a while longer. I'm seriously thinking about quitting the Mounties and working full time in the family business."

"For God's sakes, why? Your day couldn't have been that bad."

Jack shrugged. "We're having a baby. I could die."

"You're not the one going into labor. I am. I'm the one that could die."

"I don't mean in labor, you ninny. I mean as a Mountie. And don't talk about something going wrong in labor. You know I can't handle that."

"Why would you die as a Mountie just because we're having a baby?" Elizabeth asked seemingly absent-mindedly as she now concentrated on pouring melted butter on a dead and plucked duck which was stuffed into a roasting pan.

"Would you pay attention, please? We are having a baby. I don't want to worry that I may not come home to you one night."

"So don't get lost. Carry a compass and map with you when you're on rounds."

"Elizabeth! Be serious."

"I am", Elizabeth said defensively. She looked startled at Jack's own seriousness. "Pass me the pepper."

Jack took the container of pepper from the shelf and handed it to her before speaking. "My job as a Mountie can be dangerous. Very dangerous. We're having a baby. I need to provide for our family and I can do that in a job – in my family's job - where my life is not at risk every day."

Elizabeth waved her hand dismissively as she tried to concentrate on peppering the bird. "I think you're slightly exaggerating. Your life is not at risk every day. Yesterday, you sat at your desk and filled out log books and reports all day. It's not like the inkwell was going to attack you."

"That was yesterday. You know perfectly well that my job is usually dangerous."

"The day before yesterday, you helped the McPhersons find their lost lamb. Were you worried Little Bo Peep would show up and accost you?"

"I am trying to have a serious conversation with you."

"And I am trying to get this duck in the oven."

"You cannot avoid the inevitable! We have to discuss this!"

"There's nothing to discuss. So you got a black eye last week. So you're a Mountie. It's not a big deal." Elizabeth avoided looking at him and managed to keep her voice calm despite feeling herself on the verge of losing her composure. Please stop talking. Please just go into the other room.

"It is a big deal. We need to talk about our future."

"There's nothing to talk about. You've had a long day. Wash up and go relax until dinner's ready."

Shut up already! she silently ordered him as she felt her heart begin to palpitate faster and faster. Taking her somewhere she didn't want to go.

"Elizabeth!" Jack's voice rose in frustration. "I need to quit the Mounties. I'm going to go work for the family business."

"You are not going to quit the Mounties. It's who you are. You love being a Mountie. You wouldn't be happy doing something else. And you're good at what you do."

Elizabeth moved past Jack and picked up a handful of chopped carrots. She tossed the vegetables into the roasting pan with the duck and then heaved the whole pan back into the oven.

"Maybe another 30 minutes. It will be delicious", she said as she wiped her hands, which were beginning to feel sweaty, on a dishcloth.

"Would you stop thinking about dinner and look at me?! We need to talk!"

Elizabeth slammed the oven door shut and turned angrily towards him. "Fine. Let's talk about it."

Her voice was cold and harsh. "You tell me how you're giving up your dream for me and this baby. How you'll go to work every day at an office job that you hate and come home tired and unfulfilled. And how you'll pretend that you're happy when you'll really be miserable. You tell me about that."

"It won't be like that. It's just that being a Mountie – " Jack's voice softened as he saw her getting more upset. The features of her face hovering between anger and the verge of despair.

"Go ahead! Let's discuss this. Tell me all the ways you could be killed if you stay a Mountie! Are you going to be shot? Fall off a horse? Thrown off a cliff? Maybe killed by a wolf or mountain lion? How am I going to end up a Mountie's widow? Tell me!" she demanded.

Her eyes became watery and tears began streaming down Elizabeth's face even as her voice had become louder and angrier.

"Elizabeth." Jack hung his head. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have brought it up."

"No. Go ahead! You wanted to talk so let's talk", she yelled at Jack as he stood there frozen by his wife's sudden change in attitude from flippantly dismissing his concerns to a full-blown attack on him.

"Let's talk about your black eye, and your bloodied clothes, and when your body aches, and the Wanted men you look for. And the gun you keep with you. I can go to bed every night with my husband safely tucked in next to me. Never mind that you'd be unhappy in an office job and eventually will probably resent me and the baby. Or I can go to bed every night worrying that the man I love may die. Wondering how many kids we'll have together before someone comes to the door one day and tells me that I'm a widow. Do you think I want to talk about this?! Is that how stupid you are?! "

"I just thought if we talked – that maybe –" Jack's voice was meek as he looked helplessly at her and wondered how to undo the conversation.

"What do you want me to do? Do you want me to be responsible for you giving up a job you love? Because I can't do that! You don't think that I've thought about this before?! You don't think that I've lost sleep over it?! "

"But –"

"Do you not think that I get a jolt of reality every day when we leave for work? Me with my textbooks and you with a gun! Every day when you go off to work, I push aside those thoughts of you in danger. And instead I think about your kisses. And the way you touch me. And how we'll have lots of children together. And we'll be happy and old and grey-haired together."

"I'm sorry. I –"

"Why the hell do you think I decided to name the baby after you?! Because I know you might not be with me forever. And I need a part of you always."

A stunned Jack stared at her as she ran from the room. Tears falling down her face and blurring her vision. She couldn't have screamed at him any more even if she wanted to. Her sobbing, which was now wracking her pregnant body, wouldn't allow any more words to be said.

Jack turned to go after her. By the time he made it to the top step, she had already closed the bedroom door. Locking him out.

He slumped against the door. Head in his hands.

She had been right.

He had been stupid to think that just because she never talked about, she had never thought about it.


As he leaned against the hard wood separating him from his wife, it was obvious to him that Elizabeth had thought about it. A lot.

And yet, she had chosen to bury her concerns and let him keep the job he loved.

Because she loves me.

The knock on the front door took Jack by surprise. He ignored it the first time, but when he heard the rapping again, he made his way downstairs.

"It's really not a good time, Abigail," he explained when he opened the door and saw her standing there with an apple pie.

"Is she feeling okay? Is it the baby?"

"No. It was me. I – I said something stupid."

"Want to talk to me about it?"


Abigail sighed when Jack finished explaining what had occurred.

"Jack, do you remember when you first came to my house for dinner? When you first came to town? You asked me if my husband and I had ever talked about the danger of him working in the coal mine."

"I remember", Jack nodded. "You said that there's an unspoken contract that every coal miner makes between himself and his family. Never to talk about the danger."

"I expect it's the same with men in law enforcement and their wives." Abigail put her arm on Jack's shoulder and gave him a squeeze. "She'll be okay. Let her deal with it how she sees fit."


Sometime while Jack had been putting the roasting pan with the duck into the icebox, letting Rip out one more time, and closing up the house for the night, Elizabeth had unlocked the bedroom door.

When he turned the doorknob and slowly opened the door, he didn't hear a sound coming from inside.

In the light emitting from the kerosene lamp, he could see her body curled under the heavy winter bed covers. Her curls were sprawled on the pillow. He couldn't clearly see her facial features in the dim light, but he could rightly assume that her eyes were red and puffy. Her cheeks blotchy from the crying.

Jack discarded his clothes on the floor and pulled back the covers on his side of the bed. It was only seven o'clock – far too early for sleep – but he didn't care.

She didn't move or say a word. Until he wrapped his arm around her belly and tucked his chin against her shoulder.

"You told me that we would grow old together", she whispered.

"We will. I promise. You were right. There's no need to talk about my job. Because I'm always coming home to you and our babies. No matter what."

Her nose was stuffed from her crying and she had to breathe through her mouth.

"I'm sorry I called you stupid."

"Shhh. It's okay. You once promised to forgive me for every stupid thing I said or did. Let's just chalk that up to one more stupid thing I said."

"What are we going to do?"

"I have an idea. Can I tell you?"

Jack felt her head move in a soft nod against his body.

"I will keep involved in the family business to some degree. Eventually when I'm tired of being a Mountie, the company will be there for me. In the meantime, now that I'm a Sergeant, I am on the leadership track. I'll do my best to keep getting more promotions and supervisory positions. I'll be able to lead others. To teach. To still love my job and be in a less risky position. How's that sound?"

Jack pulled back slightly when his hand was pushed back. "Hey, how'd you do that?"

Despite her weariness, the corners of Elizabeth's mouth moved up into a smile. "It wasn't me. It was your son or daughter kicking."

"One kick", Jack noted quietly.

"One kick", Elizabeth repeated.

"That means yes?"

"That means yes."


"I love you, Jack."

"I know you do. If you never told me again for the rest of our lives, I would still know it. I love you too."

"I know you do."