Elizabeth sat at her kitchen table taking small breaths in and out, trying to steady her racing heart beat. Rosemary had just come to take little Jack for the morning and informed her, rather abruptly, that Lucas would be over soon to take her to practice shooting. Lucas. When Rosemary had mentioned it Thursday morning, she'd assumed Bill would be providing the instruction again. Yet Rosemary now claimed that Lucas had both better aim and more patience. She may have been right about that, at least on the second subject surely, though Elizabeth couldn't judge the first having never seen him shoot before, but Elizabeth would have appreciated some warning. Now, she had no time to emotionally prepare herself for this encounter. As if she hadn't endured enough awkward or embarrassing moments with Lucas recently, now she was supposed to put her horrid lack of aim on display for him?
She exhaled loudly, putting her head in her hands. She knew Rosemary orchestrated this whole thing because she'd confided in her weeks ago that Lucas made her feel safe and she knew she was falling for him. But now she was bound to humiliate herself in front of the man, yet again, and just when she'd settled on finally starting to let him back into her life, allowing their friendship to continue growing while she sorted out her muddled thoughts on her own future.
However, as much as she wanted to be angry at her dear friend for this, she couldn't. Rosemary had informed her Thursday about the impromptu town safety committee she'd formed and some of the measures they were working on and Elizabeth couldn't help but feel grateful, sorrowful at what necessitated its formation, but immensely grateful nonetheless. It was actions like that, when her friends and neighbors here displayed such generosity of spirit, that reaffirmed she'd made the right decision to make this town her home. Though she had been considering returning to Hamilton, that consideration was really, truly only because she no longer trusted in her ability to keep Jack safe here on her own, and she hadn't wanted to allow herself to settle on a new relationship borne of her necessity to feel secure. If she were to make a decision today based on that reason alone, she knew unquestionably which of her suitors she'd select, but Lucas didn't deserve that; if she chose him, she wanted it to be entirely of her own volition, of an undeniable desire to spend the rest of her life with the man, not just an urge to let him encapsulate her body in his strong, supportive arms.
Nathan didn't really deserve a decision made on such terms either; though she'd sensed the two of them growing apart these last months, she still admired many of his qualities: his steadfastness, his dedication to his work, his respectfulness, his gentle way with her son, his bond with Allie, his steely blue eyes. She knew he'd be a good husband if she chose him; she knew his ambitions and felt she understood his nature. She trusted he'd provide her and Jack with stability and protection; at least as much as he was reasonably able to given his occupation.
With Lucas, as much as she felt drawn to him, felt herself growing more comfortable with him, more confident of his character, a future felt less clearly defined. Elizabeth wasn't entirely sure what he wanted out of his own life, what path he'd go down in the long run, or if he truly wanted Hope Valley to be his permanent home, as she did. And she still felt some disquiet about getting involved with a businessman; though she loved her father, she did not want to marry a man who resembled him in most fashions. She wanted to be with a man who'd be more devoted to her, to their children, including little Jack, than he would be to his various business ventures. Elizabeth cared more for growing the affection in her household than she did the wealth; she needed to be certain Lucas felt the same. With his taking on of the oil business and his long hours at the saloon, she wasn't sure he'd be able to promise that.
Due to their occupations requiring so much time away from home, particularly in the evenings, she also wasn't sure either of these men would be around if she ever needed them to be, like she'd needed the other night. Should she be waiting for a suitor who met this new need of hers? This need to feel constantly safe? Or could she find herself capable of feeling relaxed being alone in her own home again? That man, Squirrel, had far surpassed her in strength; she knew it was a miracle she and little Jack had survived that clash, a miracle Rosemary and Lee had shown up when they did, a miracle Carson had taught her class about first aid last year, a miracle Carson himself were even in this town and that he'd read about advances in blood transfusions so recently, a miracle her son hadn't been hurt more seriously, a miracle she hadn't sustained an irreparable head injury. How many more miracles could she be due? She feared encountering another incident like she had with those men, an incident where she'd have to choose between allowing the scarring of her own soul and protecting her son. Elizabeth was awed and filled with gratitude at her own survival. That night, she'd truly not thought she would live another day, and again, because of the determination and love and resiliency of the residents of Hope Valley, she had. Her heart belonged here, and she had never once doubted that, but was she capable of keeping her weak body safe here?
She knew Rosemary and her friends were going to great lengths to help her feel capable of that. She was both deeply appreciative of their efforts and immeasurably hopeful it would work. Elizabeth was very appreciative Nathan and Bill had agreed to teach the other women self-defense skills. She couldn't even think on anyone else being hurt the way she was without feeling her heart break a little. She wanted all the other women here to be safe just as much as she wanted to feel safe herself again. She and Rosemary had discussed having a similar training provided to the girls in her class once Bill and Nathan figured out their bearings with it with the women. They were apparently starting their lessons on Tuesday morning, at a time when the mothers wouldn't need to be watching their children and when many of the businesses were slow. Rosemary planned to close the dress shop for an hour so she and Clara could attend and she could assist, if needed. Bill was also closing the cafe for the hour. It was so very touching witnessing these constant acts of concern and devotion in Hope Valley.
In the past three days, Elizabeth herself already felt a bit safer from having Tom around and with the institution of a neighborhood watch the previous two nights. The town council would vote on someone to spearhead that at the meeting in two weeks, but Jesse had already taken it upon himself to develop a schedule and provide some basic instruction, with Bill's help, to the numerous men who'd volunteered. Clara mentioned to Elizabeth that he was really grateful for the opportunity to use his history as a way to make amends for his past behavior. Knowing that the task was helping Jesse's conscience significantly lessened Elizabeth's feeling that it had inconvenienced the town's menfolk.
Though she did feel safer having Tom under her roof, things had been trying with him the last few days. So much so that she hadn't even spoken to him about her own recent pain, recognizing that he was still working through so much of his own. Though he did show up for work at Lee's saw mill, Elizabeth could sense from her conversations with Lee that it wasn't going so well. He wasn't candid with her about what exactly the trouble was but she deduced that Tom was rather sluggish and easily distracted, which was a dangerous thing to be in such an occupation. Lee certainly didn't indicate he had an intention of firing Tom but Elizabeth knew his employment there was not a viable long term solution. In the brief conversations she'd had with him, she could tell Tom didn't much care for the work either. And he was clearly still struggling with his addiction. Florence had visited with Elizabeth briefly on Thursday, walking with her to town in the morning so they could speak privately. Elizabeth was warmed that Florence entrusted her with some knowledge of her own father and she recognized many of the struggles Florence spoke of regarding her father in Tom.
He'd vomited profusely when he woke early on Thursday morning, so much so that Elizabeth worried he'd damage his stomach or burn his throat. It was clear he'd grown accustomed to drinking early in the morning. He'd asked her if she had anything to add to his morning coffee and appeared truly dismayed when she answered in the negative. She'd noted his hands shook and he was far more easily agitated than she'd remembered him to be. Jack's joyful squeals when he played clearly bothered Tom's mind. Though he was trying diligently to keep his temper in check, Elizabeth observed him rubbing his temples and mumbling to himself on numerous occasions. When she returned from school on Thursday afternoon, she discovered that when Laura had taken Jack out on a walk, he'd ransacked her pantry and near every drawer in the house in search of alcohol (which she had very little of in the home). His behavior that evening seemed erratic, desperate. Both Bill and Pastor Zeke had attempted to talk some sense into him that night, but Elizabeth wasn't sure his mind was sound enough, settled enough to hear their advice. To say she was concerned about him would be an understatement. He was to spend the morning with Pastor Zeke and Elizabeth prayed that the young man would find some words of solace and wisdom that could break through Tom's confused state.
A moderate rap on the door broke her concentration. Elizabeth stood up and opened it, finding Lucas standing there, smiling merrily, clearly happy to see her. "Good morning," he gushed.
"Hi, Lucas," she replied, feigning a smile.
Lucas looked suspicious of her less-than-enthusiastic greeting, he frowned slightly but asked, "You ready?"
"I hope so," she murmured.
Lucas inspected her appearance, "Where's your gun?" She shook her head, suddenly feeling foolish for not considering that. He asked gently, "So you don't own a gun, I take it?"
She sighed, "Well, yes. I do. I have Jack's gun, but…" She looked upstairs, imagining it in her mind where she knew it was resting: safely tucked away in a cedar box high up in her closet. She knew she didn't want to disturb it, to fire it. It was illogical, silly, but she still saw it as his, as an extension of him that she'd never imagined forcing into hers.
Lucas kindly offered, "Don't worry about it. We'll use mine today."
She agreed, sighing, "Thank you, Lucas, for doing this. I, uh, I do appreciate it."
He nodded politely, "Happy to, Elizabeth."
She flushed, "Did Rosemary warn you I'm not particularly good at this?"
He tried to hide a smirk, nodding, "She may have."
Elizabeth breathed in deeply, "Alright then. Let's get this over with."
Lucas teased, "That's the spirit! Exactly the positive attitude I was hoping my new student would display!"
Elizabeth looked up at him and seeing the mirth in his eyes, she cracked a faint smile, praying silently that he'd be easier on her than Jack had been. Though she normally enjoyed Lucas' jesting, she wasn't in the mood to be teased over her blinding ineptness in this area, that had recently left her feeling wholly ill equipped to protect herself and her son. She hoped he'd take her need to learn this seriously.
They rode quietly to the outskirts of town, to the firing range some of the men had set up to practice on years ago. Elizabeth had never been there before; she took a moment to reflect on the fact that there always seemed to be something new to learn about this town and the people who lived within it. And she loved finding the small places like this: those little pockets of civilization carved into the beautiful surrounding forests. She loved the feeling of freedom being in these woods gave her. Whenever she visited Hamilton, she always missed the peacefulness she felt her, as well as the closeness to God she felt being surrounded by His beautiful creation.
After they'd dismounted, Lucas grabbed the satchel of empty beer bottles hanging from his saddle, that had been clanking harmoniously on their ride over. He pulled five out and lined them up on a log a few paces away. Then he ambled back over to her, smiling pleasantly, holding his revolver out to her on the palm of his hand. He remarked, "The safety's on." Elizabeth exhaled and took it gently, somewhat precariously from him. It felt heavy in her hands, heavier than she'd recalled a gun feeling. It had been a long time since she held one. Lucas pointed down the range and remarked, "I'd like you to aim for that blue one, on the far left."
Breathing deeply, she switched the safety off, held it up and fired. She stumbled a bit as it kicked back. She had no idea where the bullet landed but it certainly did not hit any of the bottles. She exhaled, frustrated, but determined. She looked back at the bottle and bit her lip, trying to concentrate harder. As she pulled on the trigger a second time, the bullet hit a green bottle three down from the blue she'd been aiming at. Glass. Glass shattered everywhere. Abruptly. And her mind, unbidden, replaced the vision of that blue bottle with the jeering face of Squirrel Terrell, blood dripping down his forehead as he cursed at her for breaking that lantern over his head. Elizabeth's arms shook, her eyes wide with fear at the unprompted memory. She let the gun drop to the ground as her breathing labored, her eyes transfixed on an image that didn't exist.
Lucas stared at her, wondering what had happened, what had caused her to drop that gun. What was she thinking? Thank God it didn't go off when it hit the ground!
When Rosemary warned him that Elizabeth might be apprehensive about this, he had no idea how accurate that assessment would be. He wasn't sure what to do. He wasn't sure what had caused Elizabeth's panic or how to get it to end. After staring at her perhaps a moment too long, he slid in front of her, trying to block her view of whatever she was gaping at. She looked up at him, her eyes wide, fearful, her breathing labored. She stammered, "Luke, I, the glass."
Lucas blinked. She called him Luke. She'd never done that before. Nobody had ever done that, actually. It made his heartbeat quicken. But he wasn't even sure she realized she'd done it. He recognized she was in delirium. But what prompted that? She said the glass. She had hit a bottle, but it wasn't really even close to the one he'd told her to aim for. This did not seem how she'd react at disappointment for failing to hit her mark. This was pure fear, pure panic. Glass. He thought a second before recalling that her room had been full of glass that night: lamps, lanterns, mirrors, figurines, picture frames. Shit.
He swallowed, "I'm so sorry, Elizabeth. I should have considered that." He looked down at her, noting her eyes were still transfixed, her breathing still erratic. He gently grabbed one of her hands and put it on his chest, over his own steady heart beat. He murmured, "Breathe with me. Breathe with me." He inhaled deeply, held the air a moment, then exhaled through his nostrils. She closed her eyes and repeated his actions, mirrored his deep breaths. They stood like that for minutes, him clutching her hand to his chest, her eyes closed, his looking intently at her, both breathing deeply, quietly, together. Finally she opened her eyes, looking softly up at him, she lowered her hand and, quite unexpectedly, leaned her whole body into him, her hands clinging to his coat.
She whispered, "I'm not sure if I can do this."
His heart broke a little, as he wrapped his arms around her and pulled her closer to his chest. He whispered back, "Elizabeth, I'm here to help you figure this out. It's alright. We can take as long as you need. Let's just take a little break, okay? Would you talk to me for a bit?"
She gripped him tighter for another minute, her head nodding against his chest. He rubbed her back, leaning his head down and trying to keep his thoughts away from how lovely her hair smelled, how warm and comfortable her body felt pressed against his. When she let go, she looked up into his face timidly, "I'm sorry."
He smiled sadly, thinking that was not how he'd ever envisioned their first embrace transpiring, but it felt amazing nonetheless. He wanted to hold her in his arms forever. He shook his head, "Please don't apologize. I'm here to help, Elizabeth. So let's sit and talk about how I can hopefully do that."
She exhaled heavily and sat on a fallen log nearby. Lucas ambled over and sat next to her. Boldly, he took her hand back in his and rested it on his knee, wanting to maintain this amazing physical touch with her and provide her comfort. Her hand felt so elegant, so delicate in his. He looked from their joined hands up to her beautiful face as she wiped away a tear, "The sound. It was as if that lantern broke again. I saw his face as I did that night, when the glass cut his head, when the blood ran down it." Unable to resist himself, he brought her hand up to his lips and kissed it. She looked at him, her gaze focused now, but uncertain. She breathed deeply again, then remarked, her voice faltering, "I'm terrified I won't be able to protect him, Lucas, or myself, if anything like that happened again."
More than anything, he wanted to promise her that she didn't need to worry about that because he'd do it himself, but he knew he couldn't, shouldn't do that. Rosemary had made her point clear. Elizabeth needed to lose her fear before she could accept his love, his protection. So he gave up his desire to placate and decided to merely listen and encourage. He replied, "I know. But you did protect him, Elizabeth. You did. What you did that night was incredible. You were brave. You were strong. You were resourceful. You were focused. You are alive right now and Jack is alive right now because of what you did that night, all by yourself. I know you can do this. I know it."
She looked deeply in his eyes, her own filling with tears. Then she lowered her head and leaned it into his shoulder. He released her fingers and wrapped his arm around her, rubbing hers gently. She breathed for a minute, before resolving herself, "Is there anything other than glass we can use? I'm not sure if I can handle the glass, Lucas."
He bit his lip, thinking and looking around. An idea popped in his mind and he yelped, "Pine cones! Let's collect some pine cones!"
The two of them spent another twenty minutes practicing, until Lucas ran out of bullets. She clearly improved but Lucas knew she'd require a lot more practice to be truly competent. The pine cones were a rather difficult target, too light and a bit too small for a novice to be aiming at. He'd have to come up with something better for their next session, which he very much looked forward to having. Though he hated seeing her so afraid, her determination was inspiring. And he wanted this for her, he'd want it even if Rosemary hadn't articulated it's necessity to him so clearly. Lucas wanted Elizabeth to feel like herself again: to feel free, happy, hopeful. He wanted his girl back and he wanted her to be his.
When they finished, she looked up at him and smiled, a bit bashful, "Thank you, Lucas. For the instruction, and well, the comfort."
He gave her a shy smile in return, "You are most welcome. You really have improved already, Elizabeth, but if I can be candid with you, I think you could use some more practice."
She lowered her gaze and nodded, "I know."
He smiled amiably at her, "Can I bring you back out on Tuesday afternoon? Perhaps after school for half an hour or so?"
She looked up at him. He heard the hopefulness in her voice as she remarked, "Are you sure? Aren't you busy with work?"
He shook his head, "Elizabeth, I'm never to busy to help you with something you need."
Her demure smile in return lifted his heart, he could sense she was, indeed, slowly returning to herself and the knowledge lifted his spirits significantly.