William Thatcher could honestly not remember the last time he'd walked out to the stables and the paddocks. The reason he was making this unusual journey on a Thursday morning was that he wanted to talk to Nathan, and clearly this was the best way that could be accomplished. Nathan and Elizabeth spent so little time actually in the house that it seemed the mountain would have to go to Muhammad.
If he'd been asked a month ago how he would make this meeting happen, he would have said that he'd have Collins or Bates, his valet, walk out to the stables and request Nathan's presence in his office. The idea that he would use his own two feet to go and find someone would have been unthinkable. But then, a number of unthinkable things seemed to be happening in his house lately.
Also surprising to him was that he was still at home on a workday morning. He was feeling some urgency to have this conversation and the fact that it superseded an early arrival at the office was also an indication that there was change afoot in his life.
William Thatcher was not feeling quite the king of his castle these days, and the truth was, he minded it less than he would have anticipated. Having all three of his daughters under his roof at the same time was one thing. Having all three of their husbands – or soon-to-be husband in Lucas' case – was another thing entirely. When things are set side-by-side, it's human nature to compare, and William's assessment of the three men in his daughters' lives surprised no one more than himself.
As he passed the bench in the gardens, he waved to Elizabeth and Cora as they talked amiably and watched the children. William found it strange that he again liked the sound of children's laughter out behind the house. It had been a long time since he'd thought of these gardens as being anything other than something to manicure and show off at parties. It reminded him of days long ago when Frau Bustenhaller had sat with the girls as they laughed and played among the box hedges and the hibiscus beds.
Coming around the corner and into the stable, William allowed his eyes to adjust. The scent of fresh hay and the unmistakable but not unpleasant whiff of horse assailed him the moment he stepped inside. Sunlight was reflecting in long stripes on the dust that was being raised as James swept out a stall.
"Hello," William called, hoping not to startle James, but considering the master of the house had never set foot here in the entire time the stablemaster had worked for him, that was largely unavoidable.
James almost stood to attention as he would in front of a commanding officer. "Sir!" he said, dropping his broom and blinking rapidly in the dust-filled air.
William smiled, entirely accustomed to this reaction. He squinted and said, not unkindly, "James, is it?"
"Yes, sir!" James said, bowing slightly. He had absolutely no idea what would have brought William Thatcher out to his stables, but he wondered how it could possibly be good.
"And how are you doing today, James?" William asked. He found it odd that this was a man to which he gave a living, working in a place that he owned, and he had not one piece of information about him in his head, other than his name and that he must do an adequate job or Collins would have spoken about him.
Bewildered, James said, "Fine, sir. I'm doing well."
"Good," William said, nodding and looking around. "That's very good."
"Um... may I... help you, sir?" James stuttered, frowning.
"Yes," William said. "I'm looking for Mr. Grant, er... Constable... Nathan."
Inclining his head to the left, James said, "He's in the paddock with King John. Thought he might like a little walk without a carriage behind him..." James was suddenly aware that he was probably giving Mr. Thatcher too much information, so he abruptly stopped. "He's in the paddock, sir. Just there..."
"Thank you, James," William said, walking in the direction he'd pointed out. "Carry on."
"Y-yes, sir," James said, fighting the urge to salute as William walked past him.
As William passed through the large exit from the stables, he was able to stay in the shadows for a moment, just watching. Nathan always seemed tall and slightly imposing to William and had made him realize that he'd unconsciously surrounded himself primarily with men who were forced to look up at him. Now, in the paddock standing next to the mammoth King John, Nathan looked almost short in stature.
He had his head near the Friesian's massive black nose and was holding him gently around the neck while feeding him what looked like pieces of apple. "Ah, you like that, do you? Sweet tooth..." Nathan said, laughing softly.
After having watched Nathan chafe under the constriction of his ties at the dinner table every night for nearly a month, William was fascinated by the ease with which he stood next to a horse who could clearly flatten him in less than a minute.
William hadn't made a sound, but then, with that almost sixth sense that Nathan seemed to have, he looked up and saw him standing in the shadow of the barn. Neither man spoke for a moment, but to William, it was very clear that while his office was William's comfort zone, this was Nathan's.
Stepping forward, William smiled and said, "I thought I might find you out here."
Nathan didn't move, but smiled back, allowing John to finish off the pieces of apple in his hand. "This is a magnificent horse, Mr. Thatcher."
Walking up to the railing and putting his hands on the weathered strip of wood, William said, "Let's start with that, shall we? Do you think you could call me William?"
Nathan laughed softly in surprise. "Probably not very easily, but I could get used to it..." He took a deep breath and said, "...William."
"I wanted to be called Billy when I was younger," William said softly, raising his eyebrows. To Nathan it sounded like a memory he hadn't talked about in a long while. "After Billy the Kid. We were about the same age, and I couldn't get enough of his stories," William said.
Nathan let go of King John, gave him a light tap on the flank so he would trot off free in the paddock, and then walked slowly over to the railing. "Don't think I would have taken you for a lover of cowboys," he said, smiling.
"Well, that was a long time ago," William said in a way that Nathan would almost describe as wistful.
Then a memory came back to Nathan. "Elizabeth told me that she once asked to be called Lizzie, but it never quite took."
William nodded and smiled. "It's kind of you to phrase it that way, because I'm sure she also told you that I wouldn't allow it." He frowned and looked off at King John. "Why do we do that, I wonder? Something I wanted and didn't get as a child, and then I pass that restriction on to my daughter?" He looked at Nathan and sighed.
Shrugging, Nathan said, "Misery loves company?" and William laughed.
"You know how to hit the nail on the head, Nathan." He looked at him and said, "You know, I'd offer you a job with my company if I thought there was even a ghost of a chance you'd take it." Smiling, he said, "But somehow I think I'd be disappointed in you if you did."
Picking at a splinter in the railing, Nathan smiled. "Well, sir, just the fact that you would ask is enough for me."
Both men stood quietly for a moment, one inside the paddock and one out. Nathan could tell there was a reason for this visit and he was content with waiting to find out what it was. He was in his element and felt no need to hurry the conversation.
William chuckled softly. "You see?" He looked up at Nathan. "Just that. You don't need to fill silences. Do you know that's how I end up getting information most of the time? By letting other people chatter away and tell me things they normally wouldn't?"
Nathan smiled and bit down lightly on the splinter he'd just removed from the railing. "You may have noticed I'm not really a chatterer... William." He laughed softly. "Now I'm tempted to call you Billy, but that would be going too far, I think."
William laughed, and Nathan felt the genuine nature of it. "It might bother me less than you'd think it would." Shaking his head, William smiled and said, "Getting older is... well, it's an enlightening thing. And having you all here..." He stopped and looked out at the paddocks and the sheds beyond.
Finally, after another moment, William got to the point. "I wanted to talk to you about... Elizabeth."
Nathan squinted slightly into the sunlight and waited.
"I'm very pleased you came here for her to have the babies, Nathan. She'll get the best care at Hamilton General. Together, Dr. Shepherd and I know enough people there that... well, in any eventuality..." William's voice trailed off, and he was uncharacteristically unsure of how to continue.
Nathan took a deep breath. "We know there may be complications. We know the odds. Elizabeth knows." He looked down again, kicking some of the sod off of his boots against the railing.
"You're strong together," William said simply.
"We are," Nathan said firmly, looking up at his father-in-law.
"I just want you to know, Nathan, that whatever you need... it's yours. Resources, care... You can stay here, all of you, for as long as necessary, if..." William found himself unable to express what was in his heart. It wasn't a place he often looked to for words.
Nathan looked him right in the eyes, and William was surprised at the fire in them. "All three of them are going to be fine," he said, without hesitation.
William nodded. "Of course they are," he said softly. "But as a businessman, I'm used to anticipating less than ideal outcomes..."
"Do you pray, William?" Nathan asked suddenly.
Looking up, William said, "Yes. Often."
Nathan smiled. "You'll meet my mother sometime. She has a saying. Work as if there is no prayer, and pray as if there is no work." Nathan laughed softly. "Lucas would call that hedging my bets, but I believe we do everything we can to create... what did you say? An ideal outcome? And then, I think God steps in. And in case you didn't know it, your daughter has a direct line to God."
William looked at Nathan thoughtfully. He nodded slowly and gave him a warm smile. "You clearly have this well in hand. You and Elizabeth."
Nathan put his hand on William's shoulder. "And we're so grateful for the love and support of family around us."
William put his hand out for Nathan to shake. "I'm glad to know you, Nathan."
Shaking his hand, Nathan said, "I am, too, William."
Stepping back, William smiled. "Grace and I have decided we need to come to Hope Valley one of these days," he said.
Nathan grinned. "Make it soon. Time goes by fast."
William started his walk back to the house and laughed. "Don't I know it, son," he said.
Lucas and Julie were sitting with Lionel discussing the finer points of casino management in the south of France when Collins stepped up behind Lucas and whispered in his ear.
"A call for you, sir. The gentleman on the line would prefer that your conversation be handled discreetly so I would suggest you take it in Mr. Thatcher's library."
Julie looked over at Lucas with a question in her eyes.
He nodded as he stood. "Come with me. I have no secrets from you."
Julie smiled, her eyes soft. "It's enough that you would ask me. I'll stay here and learn to play Baccarat. You can tell me later."
Lucas bent and kissed her cheek and followed Collins down the long hallway to the library. "Did the gentleman give a name, Mr. Collins?"
"Dr. Shepherd," Collins said.
"And he specifically asked for me?" Lucas said, wondering why Carson hadn't asked for Nathan or Elizabeth.
Collins turned and Lucas could see the same thing had occurred to him. "Yes, sir, specifically you."
Lucas raised his eyebrows in some surprise. He knew that Elizabeth had a call with Carson every day, but that he hadn't called yesterday as he was on the train. And he should still be on the train, unless he had made a point of getting off at one of the stops and making the call from the station. A situation that would require a special telephone call while traveling had Lucas very curious.
Collins showed Lucas to the Library that adjoined William Thatcher's office. It was filled with leather chairs, books, a chess set and other games set out on tables.
Collins pointed to the phone on the mahogany table. The chair next to it had a perfect view of the gardens behind the mansion, and Lucas could see Elizabeth on the bench with Cora as they watched the two children. He assumed Nathan was at the stables.
Lucas smiled. He admired Nathan's love of horses, and also thought it was a good strategy to remove himself from the Thatcher circus. Lucas found himself genuinely liking Nathan more than he thought possible, or a year ago, even probable. The one thing that could be said about Nathan was that he was authentic, and for man who had been accused of being the opposite for so much of his life, Lucas yearned to be described that way.
Lucas picked up the receiver from the table. "Carson?"
"Lucas," Carson said, sounding slightly breathless. "I don't have much time. The train is stopped in Regina and I've had to wait for this telephone. I'll tell you quickly and then explain further when I get there." Lucas sat down, listening to the background sounds of the train station while he watched the peaceful play of the children outside.
"I'm talking to you because Nathan and Elizabeth don't need more to worry about right now. I had a long conversation yesterday with a friend who is a surgeon at the hospital in Hamilton. This is not common knowledge so please keep it to yourself. There is..." Carson paused while the train whistle blew, giving the five minute warning. "...there is a virus that has hit Canada's eastern coast, they think from Europe, possibly Spain, so it's being called the Spanish flu." He paused and caught his breath. "There's no vaccine and no real treatment other than isolation. It has an extremely high rate of fatality, and the victims are primarily young people in their twenties and thirties, and especially... pregnant women."
Lucas felt a chill go down his back, despite the warmth of the room. He looked out at Elizabeth laughing with Jack and Buttercup and found he was having some difficulty catching his breath.
"The hospital is taking precautions and it's still early, so Elizabeth will be fine there. But there are preliminary findings that the virus is spreading by touch and respiration, breathing, by way of the train system, from soldiers coming from the war in Europe."
"This sounds serious," Lucas said. "And you said it's a... a flu?"
"Yes, that is infecting people who have been on trains, especially going west. And especially soldiers. So we'll need to drive back to Hope Valley after the babies are born. I'm hoping we can borrow two cars from Elizabeth's father.
"From what I've seen, he can spare them," Lucas said. He took a deep breath. "You're saying this virus is in Hamilton, Carson?"
"Yes, so Elizabeth needs to stay on the grounds and have as little contact with others as possible. As I understand it, she hasn't felt much like going into town anyway. When I get there in two days I'll explain more precautions to all of you."
Lucas frowned. "But what about you? You're on a train," Lucas said quickly.
"I'm sitting alone and wearing a surgical mask. I've told people I have a respiratory illness. And I have a bottle of antiseptic with me at all times. I'm being very cautious."
The train whistle blew again, for the one minute warning. "I have to go, Lucas. Please, only you come to pick me up, and wait for me in the car. If any of the family or servants show signs of a fever or flu, keep your distance... I have to go... Don't tell any of this to Nathan or Elizabeth, please. I'll do it when I get there..."
The line cut off and Lucas was left holding the receiver. Lucas' father had lost both of his parents to the Asiatic flu in Munich in 1889, and his father had barely escaped death himself. Lucas had only heard the stories, but his father always had a haunted look in his eyes when he spoke of it.
Lucas shook his head, watching Elizabeth. Young people and pregnant women. He sat back in the chair. Lucas had never been firmly convinced that God listened to prayers, but in times like these, he saw no harm in hedging his bets.
Not Elizabeth, Lucas said softly, closing his eyes. He'd never known a better person and one less deserving of the tragedy life had already handed her.
He looked once again out to the gardens. Lucas knew now, in loving Julie so deeply, that he had never felt that way about Elizabeth. But he did care deeply for her, as a good person, and now a sister. He watched her, laughing as Jack ran circles around her with Buttercup close behind.
Not Elizabeth.