Elizabeth couldn't remember a better day for riding. Bright blue sky with just a trace of clouds, a light breeze, and the spring wildflowers in bloom.
They were at a nice, slow walk with plenty of time and they were craving each other's company. The idea of a full day with no one else around made them both feel rich.
They rode close on the path, close enough that if Elizabeth wanted to reach out and touch Nathan's outstretched hand, she could. Sergeant and Bear, both Mountie horses, had the same training, and riding side by side was no strain for them.
Nathan turned to her. "Do you remember the one and only time we've ridden together before?"
Elizabeth frowned. "I remember it, but not exactly when. It was nighttime. Why were we riding together after dark?"
Nathan smiled. "Well, it was early on. What did you and I talk about most back then?"
"Allie." Elizabeth said. Then it came to her. "Oh! The haunted cabin, when Allie scared the wits out of Robert and Opal! Poor Opal. I can still see her in that sling."
Nathan looked down at his reins. "We had our first fight that night, you and I. You said something to me that I'll never forget."
"Oh, dear," Elizabeth said. "Am I going to like hearing this?"
"The point of saying this to you is that you were right."
Smiling, Elizabeth said, "Good. Then I'll probably like hearing it."
"You said, 'I'm sorry your job makes you think the worst of people.'"
Elizabeth grimaced. "That was a little severe of me."
Nathan paused. "It was true. I was thinking the worst of Lucas at the time. But what I couldn't tell you is that I was... well, I was jealous." He smiled ruefully. "I'll admit that it was not my finest hour."
Elizabeth turned, her face serious, "Lucas has always been a friend, Nathan. Never anything more." She laughed softly, "Honestly, can you see me with a man who owns a saloon, does card tricks and talks smoother than silk?"
"I thought he might remind you of the people in Hamilton," Nathan said, focusing himself purposely on the road in front of them. The truth was, he was worried about the answer she might give him.
"That would not have helped his case," Elizabeth said, looking over at him. "I've realized that life is too easy for me there. Servants laying out my clothes each day. I used to think that was just the way things were, but now it makes me feel self-conscious and pampered. Spoiled."
Nathan was quiet, but he was listening intently to every word. Elizabeth continued, "And the teas, and lunches, and balls and... there are people who are hungry and can't put shoes on their children's feet and my mother is deciding which diamonds she'll wear. It's just not my life anymore."
She gazed out at the trees surrounding them, sighing. "And this. Simply riding in this... paradise." She looked over at Nathan. "With someone you care about."
Now Nathan couldn't speak. His heart was a little too close to his throat for that. But Elizabeth saw again the softness and the fire in his eyes as he gazed at her.
They both took a deep breath and turned back to look at the road. Both of them so grateful to be right where they were.
After a time, Elizabeth said, "You know, Nathan, one of the really wonderful things about talking to you is that I don't ever feel I have to hurry my thoughts. You give me space."
He smiled and turned to her. "Not everyone has felt that way."
Finally, a way to broach the subject. There were so many things she wanted to know about him.
She leaned forward casually and ran her hand down Sergeant's sleek neck. "You mean other women?"
He turned and she saw Nathan's crooked smile, the one he showed her when he was amused, or surprised by her.
"I don't want to pry, Nathan," she said quickly. "But..."
He interrupted her gently. "Elizabeth. You can ask me anything and I'll tell you the truth. I don't want to keep anything from you." He narrowed his eyes slightly. "I just want you to be ready to hear the answers."
She took in a deep breath. "Now I'm nervous," she said softly.
He laughed. "On this particular subject, you don't need to be nervous," he said lightly. "There's not much to tell." More seriously, he said, "But there are other subjects... my family, my work... that are more difficult. Just know that I'll always tell you the truth."
She nodded. "Thank you." But now she wasn't quite sure how to begin.
Nathan looked out at the trail in front of them. "So. What do you want to know?"
Elizabeth kept her eyes forward too. Might as well jump in with both feet. "Have you ever been in love?"
Nathan laughed. "You don't waste any time, do you?"
Elizabeth shrugged, smiling sweetly at him.
Nathan took a moment. You mean, before now? How do I stick to the truth here without laying everything out on the table?
"Yes," he said, with the crooked smile firmly in place. "With Maisie Harper when I was six. She lived on the ranch next door."
Relieved, Elizabeth asked playfully, "And how did it turn out with Maisie?"
Nathan sighed. "She threw me over for an older man. Seven-year-old Angus Baker, from the ranch on the other side. It took me a long time to recover."
Elizabeth laughed. "Ah, heartbreak. You never forget the first one, do you?" After a pause, she said, "And since then?"
Nathan reached his long arm out across the space between them. Elizabeth took his hand. It was warm and comforting.
"No one to speak of, Elizabeth, and never love. In case you hadn't noticed, I'm not really a charmer. I say what I think, and not much of that."
She smiled and squeezed his hand. "If it helps, I think you're pretty charming."
He looked over and thanked her with his eyes, saying, "Well, you'd be alone in the country of Canada in that opinion. But I'm glad to hear it." He leaned down and kissed her hand.
Elizabeth laughed. "You see? Charming."
He smiled and let go, taking the reins again with his hand. "Also, for the last twelve years I've had a little companion in life who has kept me pretty busy. Between Allie and the Mounties, there's not much time left over for anything else."
They rode for a time in silence, drinking in the serenity of the trees, listening to the birdsong all around them.
Elizabeth suddenly stopped and turned completely in the saddle to look behind her. "Wait," she said, and Nathan pulled up.
"What is it?"
"Are we really okay for time? Can we take a little detour?"
Nathan took his pocket watch out of his vest and flicked it open. "Yes, we're making good time. Where do you want to go?"
She was looking for the path she knew was there, and finally saw it. "Here!" she said, and turned Sergeant into the trees.
Nathan followed her, saying, "Where are we going?"
"A surprise!" she said joyfully.
After a short time, they came to a small clearing with a cabin. Nathan came up behind her.
Elizabeth was almost whispering. "Little Jack was born here. In a blizzard on Christmas eve." She turned to Nathan, and her eyes were bright. "It was only Abigail, Rosemary and me. It was like a miracle that we found this cabin in the snow."
Nathan exhaled. "So, the story really is true."
"What story?" Elizabeth asked.
"Yours and Jack's." To Elizabeth's confused look, Nathan said, almost apologetically, "Mounties pass stories on to each other. Of bravery and honor, stories of families, children - and yours was a love story."
Elizabeth looked deeply into Nathan's eyes to see if this was affecting him. She could see that he, as always, didn't feel threatened by Jack, so she asked him to continue.
"Go on."
"I wanted to tell you this today anyway, Elizabeth. When I met you, I knew everything about you – at least I knew the story that was told to me. That Jack was a legacy Mountie with a father who had also died from wounds taken on the job. That Jack's wife was a schoolteacher who had come west from a very well-to-do family. About your engagement, his posting in the Northern Territories, the wedding and then Fort Clay."
Now Nathan was checking to see if Elizabeth was okay. He'd wanted to tell her this for a long time. It felt wrong not to, especially now. Elizabeth was clear-eyed and listening – more baffled than upset, he thought.
"Then the fact that after that very short time together little Jack was born in a Christmas Eve blizzard..." Nathan smiled. "It gave Mounties hope to hear that story, and I guess I thought it had been embellished or exaggerated with time, but you're telling me this really happened."
Elizabeth gazed at him for a moment while he waited for her reaction to what he'd said.
"I suppose if the story inspires people, or gives comfort, it might as well be told," Elizabeth said softly. "It happened, and there's nothing that can change that."
Nathan looked at the cabin. "Do you want to go inside? We have time."
"Can we?" Elizabeth said, hopeful.
Nathan narrowed his eyes. "Remember, we're rule-breakers." Shaking his head, he added, "...says the Mountie. You're a bad influence on me."
Elizabeth raised an eyebrow and jumped down off of Sergeant. "Get used to it."
The door was unlocked, just as it was that night. It looked very much like it had the last time Elizabeth saw it – minus the snow and the labor pains, of course.
Nathan was looking around, probably an occupational hazard – he needed to know what was in the surrounding woods. "There are dozens of these hunting cabins out here, maybe hundreds. I'm sure you were grateful to come up on it."
"Oh, you have no idea," Elizabeth said, remembering. She smiled. "Rosemary out gathering snow to boil for water, Abigail ripping her petticoats and me raising the roof, screaming." She shook her head. "I was so lucky."
"Women are made of steel, Elizabeth. If men had to have children, the world would die out."
They were standing in the middle of the cabin in a warm patch of sunlight. Elizabeth reached up and did something she'd been wanting to do for a long time. She threaded her fingers through the dark curl at his forehead, gazing at the slightly reddish highlights that burst out in the sun.
Nathan watched her eyes, memorized every facet of her face, then found himself leaning down until he was kissing her again, slowly, tenderly, without hurry. She moved her hands down to the nape of his neck and he could feel her fingers, delicate, on his skin.
But this was different from the safety of the schoolhouse with Allie waiting outside. They were absolutely alone, inside a cabin in the middle of a forest. Nathan thought this might not be recommended in the courting handbook, if there was one.
Inwardly sighing, he pulled away and drew her head to his chest, letting his senses settle a little. He couldn't know that Elizabeth was doing the same thing.
Once she'd caught her breath, but still with her face against the warmth and softness of his vest, Elizabeth said, almost in a whisper, "Are you hungry?"
Starving, Nathan thought, holding her tightly. He hadn't ever felt anything remotely like this and it was so hard to let her go – but he exhaled and found the strength. "I'll get the lunch from the saddlebags," he said, starting for the door.
"Nathan," Elizabeth said, and he turned. She leaned up on her toes and pressed her lips to his, lightly. She smiled, her eyes soft. "Okay, now you can go."
At the tiny kitchen table in the cabin, they shared chicken salad sandwiches, apples and cherry colas and laughed over the madeleines as Elizabeth did her best imitation of Rosemary saying raspberries and lemon curd. She told him about the purple culottes, and he said he'd like very much to see them someday.
She realized she was staring at him when Nathan said, "You're far away, where did you go?"
"I'm just thinking about how strange places are. A year and half ago I was right here - terrified, in labor, not at all sure I was ready to raise a child alone, still grieving, with a blizzard raging outside. And now, here I am in the very same place, the sun warming us through the windows, and I'm a mother, I feel capable, I'm not sad anymore, and I'm with you. Happy. Full of hope."
Elizabeth smiled at him. "The place hasn't changed. I have. And I think, maybe we'll be here again in ten years or, twenty, or fifty, and it will still be the same place, but things will be different again..." Elizabeth stopped suddenly, realizing what she had just said.
And again, she felt her cheeks redden. She looked down at her lap and tried to control it, but Nathan lifted her chin up and said softly, "Don't close that window, Elizabeth. I like looking in that one."
