Chapter 6- His Turn

The day with Allie had been an absolute delight to Charlotte. After finding books at the library, the girls decided a treat from the ice cream shop was just what the late afternoon called for before heading back to the house.

"Where is the bouquet that Uncle Nathan and I picked for you?" Allie had questioned upon their return. Realizing for the first time that day, the flowers were not on the desk where they had originally been placed.

"When Mrs. Thornton and Mr. Bouchard brought that bouquet," Charlotte said tilting her head in the direction of the second set of flowers, "I decided to take yours upstairs to my room."

"You don't like our wildflowers as much as Mrs. Thornton's?" responded Allie, lowering her head in dejection.

Charlotte placed a hand on Allie's shoulder, causing the young girl to look up at her, "Not at all. Your bouquet is far more special and meaningful to me. That is why I took it upstairs. So, your flowers would be the last thing I see before I fall asleep at night and the first thing I wake to."

A smile returned to Allie's face at that moment. A twinkle glittering in her eyes.

"How about we go upstairs to my trunk and find that copy of Jane Eyre for you to borrow?" Charlotte offered as the two made their way up the steps to Charlotte's bedroom. They sat on the bed as Charlotte gently removed the jar of wildflowers, that were beginning to wilt and dry, from the top of the chest and set it beside her on the floor in order to open the trunk.

"Why don't you have a bedside table?" asked Allie. "That way there would be a place for the flowers. And maybe a lamp so you could read at night when you can't fall asleep."

Charlotte looked over at Allie giving her a kind smile as she handed her prized Jane Eyre book over to the girl, "That's a great idea. Maybe after saving up some money I will have to buy one from Mr. Yost. You are right. It would make things a bit homier in here."

A summer storm had moved through the region that evening, bringing with it a relief of cooler air to the area. It had not rained in the valley, which allowed Charlotte and Allie a chance to sit on the back steps of Charlotte's house in the twilight of the evening. Taking in the scene of the thunderstorm as it rolled over the mountains. Something Charlotte and her parents used to do all the time on the ranch. Watching the bolts of lightning. Their intricate dance illuminating the dark, ominous clouds that hung low over the landscape.

As the thunder moved on to the east and the night grew pitch black around them, the girls headed back inside. Allie asked if it was alright to stay at Charlotte's until Nathan returned from Brookfield. Of course, Charlotte had agreed. Not wanting to heat the kitchen, the pair ate a dinner of cold meat sandwiches accompanied with slices of tomato from Minnie's garden, and snickerdoodle cookies Charlotte had made the night before. After their meal, Allie curled up on the couch to begin reading Riders of the Purple Sage. Since Charlotte only had the one oil lamp, she was happy to just sit in the rocking chair opposite of Allie and watch the girl's facial expressions change as she was easily transported to the sagebrush covered hills of Utah.

Before long though, given all the adventures of the day, Allie had fallen quietly to sleep. Her head gracefully laid across a pillow leaned against the arm of the couch, the novel lay open in front of her, not a page turned in over ten minutes. Charlotte stood up from the rocker, gently removed the book from Allie's slack hands, marked her spot and laid the novel on the stand beside them.

For the second time that day, a force, stronger than Charlotte, pulled her hand towards the intricate details she found in front of her. Charlotte glided her fingers along Allie's cheek to tuck a strand of hair out of the way. Taking in the girl's angelic features, before bending low to place a soft kiss on Allie's forehead. Noticing a subconscious blissful smile develop across the child's lips, no doubt chasing cattle rustlers in her dreams.

Charlotte peered out the window in the direction of the row house beside her. Nathan did not appear to be home yet. She did not want him to come into the house and worry when Allie was not in her bed upon his return, so Charlotte set about her place collecting a few items, including the oil lamp Allie had been using. Before making her way to Nathan's, Charlotte looked over her shoulder once more to confirm Allie was still fast asleep on the couch and then gently closed the door.

As she had assumed, Charlotte found the Grant house unlocked. She pushed the whitewashed door further into the main room, but fear of entering an unknown space in the middle of the night overtook her in that moment and she stood frozen on the front porch.

Breath. Just Breath.

Charlotte tried to calm her nerves as she took the first few steps into Allie and Nathan's home, before shutting the door partially behind her. The light from the lamp illuminated the space around her on the first floor. The room was the same general layout as Charlotte's, except much more furnished and filled with treasures telling the life's story of the two people who lived within its four walls.

Handmade shelves lined the nook below the stairs, laden with books of every genre possible. A coat rack stood in the corner; a couple of rain jackets its only current occupants. The white boards that framed the front door, notched at various heights, read Allie-Fall 1917. Allie- Christmas 1918. And the most recent, placed level to Charlotte's eyesight, read Allie- Spring 1919.

As not to feel too much of an intruder, Charlotte did not explore further into the Grant home, instead opting to leave the items she had brought over on the small table beside the living room stove before returning to her house and locking the door.

It had to be after midnight, probably closer to one in the morning, when Charlotte saw Nathan return through her bedroom window. Charlotte had stayed awake. Mostly to ensure that a night terror would not come along and ruin her perfect day, by frightening Allie who slept peacefully in the living room downstairs.

Another part of her, one that she refused to admit to, wanted to make sure that Nathan made it home safely. It was hard to see given the angle of the window to his front porch, but the way he carried himself, Charlotte could tell he was tired. And soaking wet! He must have been caught in the storm on his way back as his clothes hung heavy against his shoulders and remnants of rain cascaded off his hat as he bent to open the door, disappearing into the house before a light illuminated out the windows of the first floor.

Nathan was home and he was safe.

Charlotte reached out to the flowers that rested beside her on the trunk. Finally, letting their comforting presence give her over to sleep.

Nathan arrived back to Hope Valley exhausted. Physically and mentally drained. He always enjoyed being able to work with Constable Kinslow. He was an excellent Mountie and there was no one else, well maybe other than Bill, that Nathan would want to back him up in a fight more than Gabe. So, whenever Kinslow sent word, asking for Nathan's help, he was quick to assist. No questions asked.

Their investigation had been straight forward today, but it was the journey more than anything that tired Nathan. Normally he would pass the hours in the saddle taking in the scenery, but today, most of his thoughts and concerns had been back in Hope Valley. Wondering how the day was going for his niece and their next-door neighbor.

The beautiful woman.

Nathan had, up until that point, been so careful with his words and actions towards Charlotte. Trying to assure her that he could be trusted, for whenever she was ready. Why had he been such a fool to call her a beautiful woman yesterday when the two were in town.

Not that Charlotte was not beautiful. Nathan would be blind to say she wasn't. From the moment he first saw her, road weary from the journey to Hope Valley, he could not help but see the woman she was below the layers of Alberta dust that covered her skin. Nathan refused to compare Charlotte to Elizabeth. He knew all too well the pain that comes with being seen as someone you are not. First with Lucas. Then the ghost of Jack Thornton.

No Charlotte was her own woman. The day Allie and Nathan had found Charlotte at the stream, barefoot, skirt around her knees, and blouse pulled slightly open giving a hint of the curves beneath, her head tilted back towards the sunshine, Charlotte's wavy hair creating a dark chocolate waterfall down her back, the air had seemed to be sucked instantly from Nathan's lungs.

But between the bruises he discovered on her skin that day and the screams on her first night in town, it had not taken Nathan long to piece together Charlotte's past given the evidence that had been presented. The visions of what Charlotte had most likely gone through and the pain she endured caused Nathan's blood to boil. It was his job to take care of the citizens of Hope Valley, but he had to admit, this may be more than what he could handle on his own. Given the nature of Charlotte's past is why it made sense to Nathan for Allie to be the one to break down the initial walls.

His biggest fear though was putting Allie in the position of possibly getting too attached and hurt. Especially after she had experienced a similar heartache to Nathan with the treatment they received from Elizabeth loving them, but not being in love with them. Nathan's jaw clenched remembering back to the day last fall when Mrs. Thornton sought him out in his office. Telling a crock about not seeing anything in Nathan except the vision of her late husband Jack. And then the nerve to turn around and call him "impeccable".

If Elizabeth wanted Lucas, who was Nathan to stop them? He had been hurt before, but seeing the scars that Allie still carried from losing out on a mother figure tore at Nathan. When he realized today, he was putting Allie in a similar position with Ms. Thompson, it made him second guess the decision to leave them alone together.

Upon entering his house, Nathan lit one of the oil lamps that was always left inside the door and removed his gun holster and mud caked boots. A few hours ago, he and Newton had been caught in a thunderstorm south of Hope Valley. The torrential rain caused his clothes to be soaked through, his hat and serge were quickly deposited on the coat rack to dry overnight.

Pulling the suspenders off his shoulders, Nathan untucked his henley from the waistband of his pants. The linen material clung to his torso as he removed the shirt and tossed it on the floor in an unceremonious "thump". It was at that moment, Nathan sensed something was off. He turned to take in the room around him and his sight quickly landed on the table by the living room stove. Beside a framed picture of Allie and himself sat a note and a plate of food. Nathan's stomach involuntarily growled the moment he saw the cold meat sandwich, garden fresh tomatoes, and homemade snickerdoodles that awaited him. He had not had time to eat on his trip home and had already submitted to just wait until breakfast in the morning as he was in no mood to make something to eat at this hour.

Reaching down to take a bite of cookie, his eyes rolled back. Nathan hadn't had a snickerdoodle this good since his Grandma's when he was just a small boy. The cinnamon sugar taking him right back to her happy home that Colleen and Nathan would escape to whenever their parents were having another fight.

With the first cookie quickly polished off, Nathan set about eating the second, trying to savor this one a little longer while he opened and started to read the note beside the plate of food.

Nathan,

Please do not worry, but Allie is at my house. I believe our day of adventures wore her out as she fell asleep on my couch this evening reading a book while waiting for your return.

I was unsure if you would have had time to eat on your journey, so I brought over an extra sandwich, sliced tomatoes, and cookies for when you got home.

Figured it was time someone took care of you for a change.

Charlotte

Nathan almost choked on his last bite of cookie. Someone take care of him for a change. The only other time he had experienced that, was last fall, the morning Elizabeth warmed his serge by the fire. Their moment together only fueling his desire for the normal family life their relationship would have given them both. Nathan shook his head, clearing it of the lingering cobwebs his love for Elizabeth still left there.

He was not her choice.

But, as he ran his thumb over Charlotte's flowing signature at the bottom of the paper, Nathan started to wonder if he could be someone else's choice.

And they his.