"No, nurse Zia, don't check your paperwork again!" The woman flinches with the weight of my hand over her clipboard. "Either we are allowed to visit him or we're not, and I will not withstand any more ambiguous hollyfluff over the phone."

Nurses and doctors gafaw over the audacity I have to question their co-worker. I didn't yell at her, so I don't know why they are so disturbed.

When I called the hospital again at dawn, they told me the same thing as yesterday. I can't afford any more "call back tomorrows."

"Ma'am, I am so sorry, but the doctor has done everything-"

"I realize he has done everything he can, but you have no idea how hard it is hearing that your friend is unresponsive and then hear the line click into silence!" I am about to blubber, in front of everyone. Ther eyes are growing wider. "At least tell me he's alright," my voice cracks. Air is constipated in my esophagus, not moving and inch into my lungs. I have already lost my entire family. I cannot bear losing Nathan too.

Zia adjusts her skirt, cheeks cherry red with steam, but manages to remain professional at the last second. "The doctor will see you soon. He can explain everything to you."

"Don't worry, nurse, I am here now." A tall man of fifty, peppery hair, and deep crow's feet offers me and Allie a handshake. He smells of coffee. "I'm Dr. Parker. I'll get right into it, because I know you are anxious to know about Mr. Grant's condition-"

"Someone told me he was unresponsive."

"That is true. He was unresponsive for a time in the night, but we managed to make him stable again. He is very weak, and still remains unconscious. I have confidence Thay he will wake up soon, but that could range from a few hours to a few days."

"Please, I know that he is not awake, but we would like to be here for him as long as you will allow."

"You may stay as long as you leave the room when we check his vitals. Visiting hours end at five each evening."

"Thank you so much," Allie chimes in, antsy for him to direct us to her uncle's whereabouts. "Where is he?"

"Down the hall. Room twelve." I nod, confirming my appreciation to the physician, before gripping Allie's hand. We both make haste, our headaches grown from our eyes darting fast to read every room number. This is nothing like a modern hospital I have known. The walls are shadowed with gloom, but that could be from the drench outside, starlight tears crashing from the clouds. I am cooped up inside again. I want to dance in the rain, but I don't mind missing it, somehow. I am exactly where I want to be.

At noon, I finally convince Allie to eat some food. I don't want her to starve herself. I kiss Nathan on the forehead, and take his niece to The Biscuit, a cozy little Cafe that reminds me of the one in Hope Valley. After ordering, I sigh.

"You're still quiet," I observe, chin cradled by my hand.

"I'm sorry," she says. "It's just...I'm worried about uncle Nathan. What if he doesn't wake up like the doctor said?"

"I think he will."

"How do you know that?"

"Because I need-" I correct myself, "Because the town needs your uncle. His work here is not finished. You need him most of all."

"You really love him don't you? Maybe, you need him just as much as I do." Allie gets choked up.

I sip my glass of water and smile sadly. "This isn't about me," I remind her. The food is served, and the steam wafting from my plate is enough to send me to the moon. Allie scrunches her nose at my meal choice. Macaroni and Cheese. Except, the real homemade version. The young girl snarls at the blips of ketchup drizzling over the top, and her face turns green.

"What are you doing?"

"Improving the recipe."

"That's disgusting!"

"You never know until you try it." I bring the fork of noodles closer to her lips.

"I have an active imagination, and it made me sick."

I chew on the bite I had scooped for her, since she is clearly not interested in my heavenly meal. "To each their own."

A few days later, when my neck has a crick in it from falling asleep bent in a chair, with my upper body laying on Nathan's bed.

I even climbed in next to him when nurse Zia wasn't looking at some point. I feared I never would have had the chance again. He doesn't care for me in the way I care for him. The next morning, the threshold is so close, but time drags my feet with a jackhammer heart pumping blood through them. Nurses stare at the both of us as I trail behind Dr. Parker, their eyerolls setting a flare of indignation within me. I have been here every day since Nathan was packaged and shipped here by frontier ambulance. I'm sure my presence is annoying for hospital staff. I didn't exactly give them a friendly greeting.

I don't care. I'll dig in my heels before anything were to shred me away from his side.

Dr. Parker said to follow him inside, and his arm awaits the door for my entrance. I clasp eyes onto Nathan's weak arms, then his pale face, which is like a clammy onion. It is the best sight I have ever beheld. He is awake and the rise and fall of his chest is steady. I cannot help but race to his side, and not caring whether or not the Doctor approves, I mask my face into his neck. Trickles of joy seep from my eyes, and my arms envelop as much of him as possible from around his neck. "I'm sorry I was angry," I sqwak the words, "Please, forgive me!"

If Doctor Parker minded my outburst, he does not reveal it, not hindering me from hugging Nathan. Swaying back, I realize must be squishing the Mountie. "Sorry, it's just...I thought you were going to die." All I read on his face is a content smile and slight amusement. His eyes flash, as if suddenly realizing something.

"She is with Elizabeth, back home," I say, answering his unspoken question. "I brought her to the hospital to visit you the first few days, but she left to continue her schoolwork." I lace my fingers through Nathan's. To my surprise, his grip tightens. He is still physically weak, but this is hope soaking in as his grip turns my skin white. "Want some sunshine?"

Nathan nods, and I wrestle with the window pane and checkered blue curtain, fruitlessly fumbling over a latch locking the city air away from our nostrils. Finally, it gives way and attempt to pry it ajar halfway. Dust bunnies plume from the sill, and I wipe away a fuzzy strand with a finger. "Blech!" I complain. Gerald Humer yawns like Chewbacca at the newfound rays on his eyes, blindly stumbling a hand to reach for the apple tobacco pipe nurse Zia confiscated yesterday. He finds the space to be empty. His wife, Mionette, smuggled it in here when she had brought him a homemade lunch. Nothing much, just a turkey sandwich and morning milk from their cow, Beulah.

Gerald had not been sleeping, but is quite lethargic from boredom, scratching his two broken legs.

Allie loved talking to Nathan's roommate, and this is one of the few rooms with only two beds. Others have six or seven in a row along both walls across from one another.

"Where is Gumdrop today?" That is his nickname for Allie. Adjusting twisted blankets and fluffing another pillow to support his spine, I offer the gentleman a smile. "I'm sorry, but Allie is at home now." Gerald's happy demeanor curdles. "Don't worry. She'll be back over the weekend."

"How long is that?" He rasps.

"Only a few days."

"Well enough," he mutters, "Gumdrop promised to play a game of chess." Gerald stares off into space, and drools a little. I wipe his lip with the hanky on the small table beside the bed, and nurse Zia glares at me from the doorway. I gaze up only to realize Nathan has been watching me this whole time, and to spite me, Zia shoves me out of the room to "examine the patient."

I crunch my arms into a cross, pacing and agitated steps clicking over the icy floor. Everything is meat-locker freezing in this hospital. Nathan is awake, and I'm stuck brooding in the hall. How long does it take to check someone's heartrate? Not this long. Maybe I've been overreacting lately, but stress does that.

When nurse Zia opens the door, I barrel right in. Nathan smirks at me. Am I being adorable or something? He has that gleam in his eye. I seat myself in a chair right beside his bed. It actually appears to be comfortable to sleep in.

"Hey..." All of a sudden, my tongue is tied in the most precarious knot. Gerald Humer is plagued by the hiccups, but I try not to let it bother me.

"Th-thank you." Nathan smiles. "For being here. For taking care of Allie." I don't want to bring up what happened yet, I am dying to know how it was Nathan that was shot instead of that other Mountie. It isn't that I wanted the other officer to die, but I expected it.

"I wanted to be here..." I swallow hard. "I want to be here." If only it were appropriate to add, 'with all my heart' at the end of that sentence. I know what dream is keeping me here now. As Eugene Fitzherbert said to Rapunzel, "You were my new dream," I know that there will never be a moment where Nathan would say "And you were mine."

"Why do you want to be here?" He asks, sitting up more, grunting in the process. Warning lights blare in my head. How do I answer that question? "Please, be careful. Don't exert yourself too much." I rush to help him, but he waves me away.

"I'll be fine." A pointed look is all he gets from me, and he chuckles. "I promise. I won't even leave bed."

"Ok." Sitting back in the stiff chair, one hears Gerald's hiccups echo stronger in volume. "Is there anything I can get you?"

"No, thank you." All of this is small talk. Nathan is a great sport to put up with me, but the hornets in my stomach are forbidding my judgment to think of something witty or interesting to say. "You never answered my question by the way."

I could give him half of the truth, but every part of this story is true. "You know, there was this tree in the countryside. A great elm, with thick but intricate branches. They reminded me of spider webs. A family took me in for a time after my family died." Gerald's hiccups are gone, and now he's resorted to loudly rifling through his bedside table. I think he is trying to reach the newspaper. I continue, "At the age of seven, I was allowed to go play in the woods. Their littlest boy was a terrible bully, but their other son, Kyle, was very kind. Kyle's brother dared me to climb the tree. He already hung on a branch, showing off to me how easy it apparently was. Mid-taunt, from high up, Kyle's brother fell in front our eyes." Tears well up in my eyes again. I hate crying. It annoys me. Nathan is patient for me to continue. "Damien broke his neck, and passed away. His black hair was all bloody from hitting his head on a rock. The brokenness in Kyle's eyes afterward taught me a lot. I have seen a lot of death. When someone I care about dies, a large piece of me dies with them. I don't have any large pieces left."

Nate is deep in thought.

"I'm sorry. Not exactly the story you asked for. It probably wasn't the best thing to talk about right after you just woke up."

"Don't apologize." Gerald hacks an exaggerated coughing storm. What on earth is wrong with the gentleman?

"Excuse me, Nate."

"You are calling me Nate again." He doesn't act frustrated, but seems very happy as he makes this observation.

"I guess I am. It was wrong of me to be angry for as long as I was. Forgive me?"

"I'm the one who should apologize."

"You already did that. I just have a hard time letting things go. It is something I repeatedly need to work on." Gerald blows his nose, and I immediately want to roll my eyes, but refrain. "I can't be perfect, now, can I?" The hiccups have started again, and exasperation sets in. "Excuse me, I really think I should help him."

Nathan's lids droop after I scavenge for Mr. Humer's glass of water, so I document some notes in another journal. It is separate from the one Nate read. We should talk about what he knows at some point. Maybe we can convince eachother that I'm not insane. It will be afternoon in a little while, and I have a detailed outline of of what has transpired the past several weeks. I compare it with the point by point organization of what I remember from the show. I even count the miniscule details. The most noticeable change is when Nathan did not gift Elizabeth flowers, but then I conclude there was even a time before then that something shifted. The night when Elizabeth asked Nathan to dance instead of Lucas.

I adjust the shawl around my shivering arms, and yearn for a crackling wood fire. It doesn't need to roar or dance. It simply needs to glow around my numb fingers and thaw them. I won't be getting that here until I get back to the hotel.

Now, where was I?

I make a note about my worry for Henry Gowen, for his business is about to bankrupt, and he insisted on paying the hotel bill. I will have to pay part of it without his knowledge.

I also believe my subconscious dwells on the fact that I still have not heard from Jude in a long while. I'm terrified of the next meeting we might have.

I still have nightmares about him. They are all the same now. Me, in the quiet folds of nature, time slowed and labored, until Jude almost kisses me, and shares that he wants an heir.

An evil shiver trails down my spine.

I won't allow it.

Hey! Merry Christmas! Look out, because there will be quite the ride coming up in the next several chapters.aybe we'll get to hear more from Lucas?

More from Elizabeth? Or even more from them himself, Nathan!