He feverishly steals glances at other entries. Nyrah mentions normal things, and the occasional description of Lucas's charm, how she kissed him on the cheek the very day she fished with Nathan and Allie for the first time. He reads about how Gowen has a son, and how Ned and Florence will get married, and it will rain on the day of Jesse and Clara's wedding...how Nyrah is battling about what Fiona said to her; she is not certain of her feelings toward Nathan. Hope and despair mingle together in his chest at the sight of those words. Cellphones. Disney. Electric blankets. Computers. When Calls the Heart...Details about Jack's death. Nathan's secret, that Jack took the assignment he was supposed to after things...Nathan's heart hammers and throbs within his ribcage.

Nyrah's Journal Entry:

I don't understand why, but I wish I could pour put my heart to the next person I see, and share the truth about where I come from, but what catastrophe would that cause? I would break someone's heart if I were to fall in love, because my life here is not permanent. The one I am most tempted to tell is Nate. His presence makes feel safe, and not because he is a mounty, but because we respect one another.

Nathan does not think he has respected her at all by what he has done. He cannot sleep now, and clutches his stomach as nausea ripples through his body. He has betrayed her trust, but he is glad he knows what she has been hiding. In most cases, Nathan would say she is insane and needs a hospital for her lunacy.

Nathan recalls conversations he has had with Nyrah, and the only thing she has said, is that she "could not talk about it."

He buries his face in his hands; she isn't crazy, so she must be telling the truth. But time-travel is impossible. He must never mention what he knows to Nyrah. He does not know what a Wii or an electric blanket is, but he is certain of one thing. He still holds care for Nyrah.

He needs to move on, he thinks, for he has bitten off more than he can digest. It will be a treacherous road to make that happen. Perhaps, if he were to spend more days with Elizabeth, it would be easier to love someone else. After all, he did care about Elizabeth before Nyrah came into his life. There is still time for things to move forward.

Nathan nods, with resolve and confirmation, but the sweat pooling around his face and neck and the disheveled bedsheets says the exact opposite. All night, his mind is plagued by Nyrah's secrets.

I roll over, gasping for air as my heart is a bullet; Its beat quickens, ricocheting through the valley with a mighty shot. The sheets are wonky and press my bones into the mattress from sheer weight. I haven't the strength to cast them aside. My arms quiver as I plaster a palm to my forehead.

Another dream. Another marrow-chilling reality scalded into mind forever. I dreamt that Lucas and Nathan knelt down on one knee, and I had to choose between them, before Jude materialized behind them. I felt sharp claws dig into my core, dragging me across the ground into a black hole, and just as I was sucked into the void, I caught a final glimpse of the two men I care about, dead and motionless.

To forget about the dream, I manage to slip out of bed and brew a cup of green tea. I add two logs in fireplace, and light a match to an outdated newspaper. Nathan won't mind. The girls upstairs settled into quiet around midnight, and it must be close to dawn now with birds shuffling their feathers in puddles outside the kitchen window.

When the last drop of tea slides down my throat, I decide to cook breakfast for the girls and scavenge for ingredients. With a couple of bellpeppers and some onion and cheese, I gather some eggs and bacon to complete an egg bake. I hear a gentle patter of feet as the sun takes its first breath. The smell of bacon and onion sizzling in a cast-iron skillet brings down Allie in a fit of yawns.

"Rise and shine, young lady." The girl yawns once more, waving a hand to dissipate the remnants of her own morning breath. "Where is uncle Nathan? I didn't expect to still see you here."

"I offered to supervise your sleepover, so he stayed at my house for the night, and I slept here." I crack eggs over a bowl while Allie takes a seat at the dining table. I feel her eyes on me, tempting me to look at her. "What are you thinking?" I ask without diverting from the cooking of breakfast.

"You are very pretty," she rests her chin over her knuckles, "I understand why Uncle Nathan loves you." A bolt of pain shoots up my finger as I slice the side of it while chopping the peppers. I suck in air through my teeth as I race to the sink to wash away the blood. It isn't deep. Allie floats up beside me, and holds out a small bandage. How she found one that quickly, I'll never know. I join her at the table for a moment with an ounce of courage to respond to her statement. "You know, if your uncle loves me, I hope it is for more than my being pretty." An air of jest is in my voice, but I could not be more serious in my heart.

"Of course it is more than that...do you love him too Miss Sutton?"

"Where is this question coming from, Allie?" I avoid her question about me loving Nathan, because I am asking myself the same thing. I am not upset with her, and I try to portray that fact to the girl. I want her to feel at liberty to share her thoughts with me, and find me as a friend to trust. Allie only shrugs, and I continue with breakfast, and pour the mixture into a pan for baking. "I don't mind hearing the truth," I tell her.

Allie sighs, putting the cutting board into the sink along with the knife. "I am dying to talk to grandpa about my mom. No one could ever take her place...but when I'm with you, I feel like I do when I think about her." The pieces connect in my head at the information she just disclosed. She sees me as a mother figure, which is unexpected. Now that the eggbake is in the oven, I hug the girl to my chest, her tears soaking into my clothes. Consoling a weeping young girl was not on the agenda for today, but she needs someone right now. "Don't forget that your uncle loves you." My fingers tease through her hair, and it is then I notice Nate who has crept into the kitchen. Her muffled cries eventually die down after a few minutes, and Nathan and I share glances and stares much like last night. His Adam's apple bobs up and down when he swallows, seemingly about to choke on the words lodged in his throat. I ponder on how long he has been standing there.

Allie sniffles, cheeks rosy from the knowledge her uncle caught her in tears. "Excuse me uncle Nathan." She scampers upstairs, and I am left with the explanation.

"How long were you standing there?"

"Um...right when you hugged eachother." He approaches closer, pushing in the diningchair. "What is that smell?"

"Eggbake. You want some? It should be ready in half-an-hour." I flit about the kitchen, adding vacant eggshells to their compost bowl. "I'd love some." Nathan grabs a towel and I start scrubbing dishes. We work in the silence as a good team. I catch him studying me at least three times, and my insides quiver. Allie is observant, but is she certain he loves me? I'm not. Something is weighing on his shoulders this morning, but I don't ask about it, knowing it is probably about his father being in town. I recall that Nate was supposed to tell the man to leave at some point. Of course, his father is stubborn, and that won't happen until later. More shifts and shuffles thump through the ceiling, indicating that all the girls are awake now.

Allie walks her friends home after we eat, and I make my way home so Nathan can go to work. When I get everything settled back into their proper places, I head into town with one destination in mind. The time has not presented itself since Jesse and Clara got engaged for me to talk with her. The Cafe is more empty than usual. Henry Gowen is one of three customers. Faith and Carson are share a table in the corner of the room. "Where is everyone?"

Clara sighs in greeting, "Well, townspeople have gotten word that Ned Yost got good poisoning."

"Let me guess...they think it is because he ate here the other day?" She clicks her tongue in confirmation, then offers me a fresh cup of coffee. I accept, before hoping to sit across from Mr. Gowen. "May I join you?"

He motions forward, as perplexed by my question as I am. "Be my guest." I take a few moments to observe the room. It is the same, but the curtains are different. They are more sheer with lace on the bottom. The sureal oddity of living here instead of surveying it through a screen has mostly worn off. I tend to live in the here and now, and other times in the past, but this place has me more and more engaged with the future. Will I always feel this snow-white tablecloth beneath my fingers every weekend? Will I ever walk outside only to discover striped tar instead of agitated dirt? Will the night sky fade and steal diamond stars from it because of city lights? I shake my head, anxious to get out of it and pay more attention to the gray-haired man in front of me. "How is business, Henry?" His cup floats midway to his lips. His smile is polite, but he still is curious as to why I am talking with him. I haven't until now. I guess I never thought to. We run into eachother once and a while. After all, Lucas and Henry are business partners. The saloon is one of the second places you will find him. Maybe I just feel guilty, but that hasn't ever stopped me from making a fool of myself by doing spontaneous things. "Business is good. Could be better some days."

"The majority of things could always be better. Tell me, Henry, what do you do other than work and play poker?" Gowen chuckles, amused by my directness. "Apparently, I make small talk with the mysterious Nyrah Sutton. I also like a drip of whisky once and a while." I chuckle at his humor; it has never been my strong suit. I prefer to keep those thoughts in check. It always sound worse when I belt it aloud. "Are you trying to say my reputation precedes me?"

"It also follows you if that is a better way of saying it. You fell from a boat, cut your head open, and you had a falling out with your beau, Jude Wesley; that is really all anyone knows about you."

"I never took you for a gossip, Mr. Gowen," I tease, "Mr. Wesley was never my beau, and he never will be."

"I hear. I don't pass on unless it's necessary."

"A good practice to have." I sip the bitter brew. It is a little strong, but pleasant enough. "I know a few people you could educate...I had a best friend, you know. She always shared the latest scoop on people I never even heard of. We met at a fair, and she offered me a free barbecue sandwhich as compensation for the loss of my cotton candy. She knocked me right over, and the pink fluff dissolved in a puddle.

"She latched onto me from that point on. Got herself into trouble because she could not keep any secret anyone told her, but she always kept mine. I never figured out what she saw in me." I find my knuckles fascinating all of a sudden after the expression Henry gives me. "Sorry, it slipped out. I miss her, so she was on my mind." I mentally facepalm. "You probably didn't want to know all that."

Henry smiles, soothing my anxieties. "I don't mind, really." A few more minutes of conversation, and Henry leaves for work. Clara offers me a free refill, but I decline, satisfied with the two beverages I have consumed this morning.

"Do you know what kind of dress you are going to wear yet?" I ask, chest bursting with excitement. Clara smiles, but shakes her head. "No, not yet."

"Don't worry about it too much. You will know when find the right one."

"I hope so." I can tell she has her doubts, but it is buried beneath a load of happiness. Her wedding day was so beautiful in the show; she was beautiful, and I anticipate to attend in person. "May I ask you something?"

"Yes, anything."

She sighs, nervous but relieved, "Will you be one of my bridesmaids? I have always liked you, and you have been a good coworker and friend these months. I would be honored if you took part in my wedding." Did I hear her correctly? She wants me to be a bridesmaid?

My face shines brighter, "Of course, I will!"

Clara takes some time to flip through a catalog of wedding dresses, asking my opinion in each one she finds pretty. "I mean, I love the sleeves on this one, but the skirt over here is less extravagant, which is what I'm searching for."

"Have you thought of designing it yourself?"

"That's a good idea. The only problem is Rosemary."

"She tried to give her advice?" Clara nods slow, eyes wide in frustration. "Rosemary cares about you; she will see it your way soon enough. Rosemary is only being Rosemary; she is trying to be of help in her own way."

"I realize that, and I love her for it, I do...but it's just that her ideas are a little too...grand for me. I want this wedding to be perfect, and personal." I get where Clara is coming from, and I respect her for it. I shrug, "Well, I only know one thing." I inspect my nails for dirt. "No matter what dress, no matter what venue, it will be a special day filled with love, friendship, and family. I'm delighted to be a part of it."

Clara giggles in agreement, "What is that phrase you have used before? Right on?"

"Yep!"

"In that case, right on." She winks.

So...lot's of interesting aspects in this chapter. I felt we needed to see more interaction between other characters. I mean, I know the story is about Nyrah, Lucas, Nathan, and Elizabeth, but Nyrah needs other friends too. ;)

Also, please tell me what you all think of this book's new cover. I may have *cough* made it myself *cough*.

Has anyone come up with any ship names yet? The best ones I can think of are Lucah or Nathrah or even Nyran...not sure if any of them will grow on me or not.

Anyway, stay tuned for more. I am not gonna lie, I am both sad and happy that Nathan has opened her journal. This means there is more mud to work through, but this is a pivotal moment for the two of them. They learn some things about themselves, as well as eachother.

A cute scene with Lucas is officially in the workings, so don't despair for all you Lucah fans out there. ;)