They spent one more day in Hamilton. In part to stock up on everything they would need for the trip; and in part because the household, both upstairs and down, had to meet, and cuddle, and watch the sun rise and set on the twins.
Nate and Becca were well on their way to being the most treasured, most spoiled children in the entire city. They were planted on Elizabeth for feedings, but beyond that, they were in someone's arms, and that lucky someone usually had trouble looking anywhere but into their eyes.
Translucent blue eyes, like Nathan's. Elizabeth's eyes had the somewhat chameleon nature of hazel eyes, but Becca and Nate's were the same color as their father's. It was nearly the first thing anyone holding them would say, usually accompanied by a sigh.
Carson, ever the pragmatist, was quick to remind everyone that nearly all Caucasian babies have blue eyes at birth, and that until they were about two years old, no one could know if they would stay. But the popular opinion was that these were extraordinary eyes and that Nathan had passed them on.
Nathan had to keep reminding himself that once they were on the road, it would be short naps only and the relentless need to care for two newborns, so he reluctantly gave up possession of his son and daughter for the full day and night they spent at the Thatcher mansion before leaving. But he and Elizabeth were never far away from Nate and Becca, as the whole family, and most of the servants, were stationed in the sitting room waiting for the latest miraculous sound or movement from the two babies.
The gift Thomas was giving them couldn't be minimized. It would mean that Carson and Nathan could hold Becca and Nate in the Pullman while Elizabeth healed. And if Thomas was truly able to drive sixteen hours at a stretch, they should be home, even with possible delays, in less than a week.
Home. The five of them – Nathan, Elizabeth, Lucas, Carson and Julie – missed Hope Valley with a depth of feeling that none of them had ever known for a place. The everyday life, simple pleasures, a greeting on the street or happy news shared on the boardwalk. Bill's crustiness, Lee and Rosemary's never-ending well of love for Violet, Florence's nosiness, Molly's sweetness, Ned's steadiness, Fiona's laugh... the list went on and on.
And though Nathan and Lucas had the love of their lives with them, Carson was missing Faith profoundly. Not only because of his love for her, but also because she was putting herself at risk daily at the train station, testing and questioning every person wanting to enter Hope Valley. Carson knew better than anyone how serious this was, and how very serious it would become. Faith was on the front lines of a war, and from the alarmingly rising numbers of cases, he was afraid the virus was winning.
So as they gazed in wonder and a measure of peace at the two miraculous children being passed from loving arms to loving arms, the displaced residents of Hope Valley had every reason to want to get on the road.
They were also keeping open the possibility of taking the short detour up to Airdrie to see Rebecca and Charlie. Charlie had been released from the hospital at his own request, though the problem with the artery in his heart hadn't been solved. Now that he had decided against a surgery that had a less than ten percent chance of survival, Charlie wanted to go to the tribal elders and work toward a healing.
Carson had read about First Nation healing ceremonies. He knew that, along with herbs and other natural compounds, the ceremonies were incorporated into a complex wellness system that yielded surprisingly good results for the tribe. And Carson also understood that the statistics for the type of surgery Charlie needed were not promising, even in a modern hospital like the one in Calgary, so Charlie really had nothing to lose. In truth, every time Nathan called Rebecca, Carson was ready to console and explain – he had spoken with Charlie's doctor, and the stark fact was that, barring a miracle, it was probably only a matter of time.
So, as Becca and Nate quickly worked their way into hearts, there was talk of little but new life – but in the back of many minds were thoughts of illness, worry and death.
And all of them knew that this was simply the bittersweet nature of the human existence.
Rebecca understood. She wasn't a member of the tribe, and she knew and accepted that she would never be able to enter that world with Charlie completely. He had done what she'd asked and exhausted all the possibilities of modern western medicine, and now he was going home to his people for a time. And she knew she couldn't follow him.
Rebecca's respect and affection for Charlie had grown so incrementally over the nearly thirty years she'd known him that it was hard to know when it had turned to love. Certainly after Archie left, and never before. But once she'd been alone for a while, she found she liked it when Charlie stayed for supper and helped to clean up after. They had fine conversations together, and he had been gazing at her in a different way for long time before she noticed it.
When she did notice, she found she longed to be held again, to be cherished the way Archie had once done. Archie was her first and only love, and it was only her passion and deep love for her husband and the father of her children that allowed her to take him back so many times, hoping he'd changed. Once she'd crossed that bridge and closed the gate, it was a short journey to Charlie's arms.
And now, as she watched Charlie pull himself up into Nugget's saddle, she waved, fighting the tears that she knew would shatter her once he was out of sight. He said he'd be back soon, but Rebecca was a highly intuitive woman, and if nothing else, she was a realistic one. She had kissed him goodbye and was giving him back to his people, and she simply couldn't shake the feeling that with his people is where he would stay.
When he was out of sight, the tears fell. Rebecca knew that for every hello there was a goodbye, but why did it always have to come sooner than she wanted? Being the pragmatic woman that she was, Rebecca set herself to her chores and simply did them while sobbing quietly. Being alone in the house allowed her to talk to God in her out-loud voice, sometimes pleading, sometimes angry, always grateful.
"Yes, I know those babies were born easier than any of us thought, but if You could send Charlie back to me in one piece, I'll try not to ever be greedy again," Rebecca said, leaning on the broom to bring her apron up to wipe her nose. "And yes, I know I've asked a lot of You in my life, and You know better than anyone else that I'm not likely to stop..." Rebecca took hold of the broom again and swept fiercely through the kitchen. "...and..." She stopped suddenly, letting the tears have control for a moment and speaking almost in a whisper. "And if You have to have Charlie, could You have Sarah waiting for him?" Rebecca sat heavily into a chair at the dining room table. "He always had a soft spot for her. It might make it easier..."
Taking a deep breath, she wiped her eyes on her now-soggy apron. Standing, Rebecca took the broom in hand again. "Whatever happens, it will be Your will," she said, more firmly. She looked up to the beams in the ceiling. "And You always know better than I do."
Rebecca started sweeping again, and her tears dried. Before long, she was humming, and the song was "Amazing Grace."
Lucas and Julie had a train to catch. They listened to Carson's instructions one more time, nodding, and let him know that they would do exactly as he said. They would arrive in Hope Valley in three days, and had promised to leave their cabins only when absolutely necessary, and only with masks and antiseptic. Elsa was sending them with enough non-perishable food for the days on the train, and although it wouldn't be elegant, it would be sufficient for good nutrition. They had adjoining cabins with a door between, which raised some eyebrows among the staff, but was a comfort to everyone, knowing they'd have each other for company on the isolated trip.
Thomas wasn't allowed to leave the main house until the trip began, and Carson had watched him very closely. He wasn't showing any signs of illness. One of the chambermaids, Bessie, had developed a fever and was being cared for in the room above the carriage house, but none of the other members of the household seemed to be infected. Groceries and other necessities were being delivered, and William Thatcher was feeling he'd worked his whole life for the wealth and privilege that was now offering this kind of protection to his family and household.
"We won't telephone you on the way, just to be safe," Lucas said, shaking Nathan's hand. "But since you'll be calling Bill every day to check in, we can talk in three days. From Hope Valley."
Nathan and Lucas looked at each other for a moment and smiled. Right now they were light years away from the two who had stood in the middle of the street, awkward and contentious, watching as Elizabeth walked away, as she always seemed to do when the three of them met self-consciously. Both men knew it had turned out just exactly the way it should have, and found themselves grateful not only for their blessings of love with a good woman, but also for their newfound friendship.
And in that gratitude, without thinking, both pulled the other into a hug; unselfconsciously and not in the least awkward. "Thank you, Lucas," Nathan said, taking him by the shoulders. "Safe travels."
Elizabeth was watching and her smile told the whole story. She leaned up and gave Lucas a kiss on the cheek, something he had once wanted so badly, but was now worth so much more. He pulled Julie closer and the four of them wordlessly said a last goodbye before Lucas and Julie stepped into the car.
"See you in Hope Valley!" Julie said brightly. She looked at her sister holding Becca and the tears started to form in both of their eyes. "Love you, sister," Julie said. "Take good care of those babies." Her eyes twinkled, "Especially little Julia Rebecca..."
Elizabeth shook her head, laughing. "You and Rebecca will have to work that out, Julie. But it is Rebecca Julia on the birth certificate, so I fear she may have the upper hand."
Julie reached out and touched Becca's soft cheek from the car's back seat. Her eyes spilled over from too many goodbyes, and as the car pulled away, Lucas folded her into his arms and held her.
Rosemary was singing Violet to sleep in her arms and doing what she often did at naptime. She had positioned the rocking chair at the window facing the Grant's home, with the pond and the church beyond.
She missed them so much. Talking to Elizabeth simply wasn't enough, and the joy that there were two new babies to love and hold was only dimmed by the fact that they were so far away and embarking on what seemed a perilous journey.
Rosemary kissed Violet's cheek, feeling for any extra warmth, as she often did these days. She didn't venture out of the house as much as she usually did, preferring the safety of their home and the lessened chance that Violet might become ill. Lee still went to the sawmill every day, working with countless people, and he did everything he could to ease her mind. She'd purchased a thermometer early on as a part of the batch Carson and Faith had procured, before the need for them across the country had made for delays and shortages.
Every night as he came home, Lee would stand at the door and use the antiseptic there, while holding the thermometer firmly between his lips. Only after he was certain that he was fine would he enter the house and hug his wife and Violet.
To some, it might seem excessive. But some had no idea how deeply and desperately Lee and Rosemary loved their little girl. Whatever control they had exercised at the beginning was a distant memory. They loved Violet to distraction and she couldn't be any more their daughter if Rosemary had actually given birth to her.
Rosemary was in frequent contact with Frances and Harold now that Brookfield had a telephone in the hotel, and Bill had contacted Gabe early on to share the precautions they were taking in Hope Valley. Gabe had duplicated them in Brookfield, and their nurse, Maggie Parsons, was helping to control the flow of visitors to the town. Not being directly on a railroad line made the task much easier.
The help Lee and Rosemary had given Frances and Harold had allowed them to thrive, and Harold was now working full-time at Joe's General Store and paying his own way at Mrs. Mayfair's boarding house. Frances had started school in Cloverdale nearby, making the daily trip with the dairy wagon. The added benefit was that Frances was enjoying her conversations with Steven, the wagon's driver, and it seemed he was sweet on her as well. Rosemary could hear the growing confidence Frances was feeling with every telephone call. It was time for another call, and Rosemary thought she would arrange to have Frances go to the hotel this evening so they could talk.
Violet stirred a little in her arms, and Rosemary held her more tightly. She could see the soft smoke rising from the chimney in the sunroom, and imagined Allie, just home from school, sitting there on the swing with Archie as she told him about her day. Laura was doing a wonderful job with the children, and seemed such a natural at teaching that it was a wonder she hadn't filled in before.
Only a week, hopefully, and the house across the way would be full of laughter and activity again. Rosemary would be able to walk the path between, which was now overgrown with spring weeds, and Violet could play with Jack, who she missed badly. She would often point out the window and wonder where her friend was, and Rosemary would be very glad to see her friend as well.
A town is only its people, after all, and without Nathan, Elizabeth, Lucas, Julie and Carson, Hope Valley was missing some very significant pieces. It was unspoken, but there had been a waiting aspect to the past month. Waiting to hear about the twins, waiting for Le Bistro to open again, waiting for Faith to have her Carson back, waiting to see Nathan, Elizabeth, Allie, Archie and Jack as a family again. And Rosemary prayed that the wait would be over soon.
Rosemary heard the door and turned, surprised to see Lee in the middle of the day. Because of his precautions, they had foregone the usual lunchtime meetings for now, and Lee had lunch at his desk in town. She turned and saw a look on his face that she couldn't decipher; a combination of grief, joy, and bafflement all battling for prominence, one and then the other.
"What is it?" she said softly, not wanting to wake Violet, but seeing an urgency that required her to stand and look at him, her eyebrows in a questioning frown.
"I... I got a phone call. We got a phone call. From Brookfield," Lee said, wiping down his hands and arms with antiseptic and speaking around the thermometer in his mouth.
Rosemary's heart sped up. She knew Lee so well, and this was a look unlike anything she'd ever seen. It did not look like good news, but then, there was an undercurrent of something she couldn't understand, of wonder, of happiness. It was nothing if not confusing.
Lee looked at the reading on the thermometer and said, "Normal." He looked across the room and said, "Rosie?" and she motioned him to come forward.
"From Brookfield? Is everything okay. Frances? Harold?" Rosemary asked, her eyes becoming slightly frantic.
Lee took hold of her arms and kissed Violet softly on her downy hair. He looked like he was near tears.
"Tell me," Rosemary said, steeling herself, her mouth in a hard line.
"Frances took ill, Rosie. In school, in Cloverdale." Lee reached out and pulled both of them into an embrace. Finally letting his emotions go, he said in a broken voice, "It was very fast."
Rosemary pulled away, her eyes wide and beginning to fill. "No!" she said, now waking Violet, who opened her eyes and began to whimper. "No!" Rosemary said again, unwilling to believe what he was telling her.
Lee looked into her eyes. "She left papers with Gabe a few months ago. If anything ever happened to her, she wanted to be sure that we could have Violet. Legally." A tear rolled down his cheek.
"She's ours, Rosie. Violet is ours."