Hamilton, 1910

Elizabeth Thatcher stared out the window, anxiously waiting for the train to begin moving away from the station, away from the only life she'd ever known, but most importantly, away from him. Two days ago, she had a completely different plan for her life. But then two days ago, everything changed.

She took a deep breath, watching the people milling about on the platform, hoping that she wouldn't recognize anybody. She had said her goodbyes to her family before she left home, knowing that having them at the station would only make it harder to leave.

And she had to leave.

Heavy footsteps fell behind her, distracting her from her thoughts, and she involuntarily tensed up at the sound.

"May I?"

She lifted her eyes to see a young man indicating the seat across from her. Normally, she would have said no, but the train was nearly full, and she figured he wouldn't have asked if there had been another empty seat. She nodded, eyeing him carefully.

He swung his bag down and took a seat. "Thanks."

She dropped her eyes when he met her gaze. She turned away, hoping he wouldn't see the flush rise in her cheeks. She couldn't deny she found him handsome. He looked to be just a bit older than her—maybe by a year or two—and he had light brown hair and hazel eyes framed by the longest eyelashes she'd ever seen.

The train lurched, and Elizabeth returned her attention to the window, watching her old life move further and further away. Her mind raced as the city grew smaller in her vision. She wondered if she was making a mistake.

She had always been one to plan everything out, looking at every possibility before making a decision. Her decision to leave Hamilton, however, had been anything but well-thought-out. She hadn't even packed up most of her things. She just threw as much as she could fit into a trunk, purchased a one-way ticket at the train station, sent a telegram to her destination, and said goodbye to everything that was familiar.

She prayed that her spur-of-the-moment decision was a good one.

Twenty minutes after the train had left the station, the man sitting across from her spoke up. "So, where are you headed?"

She chose her words carefully, unsure whether she could trust this man. Even her family was unaware of what her destination was. "A small town out west. I'm sure you've never heard of it."

"Maybe I have. I'm heading to a small town out west, too, a place called Hope Valley."

"Really?" Her eyes lit up. "That's where I'm going."

"I'm actually the Mountie there. Have been for about three months now. Constable Jack Thornton." He offered his hand.

She sat up straighter, taking his hand and shaking it lightly. "What's it like in Hope Valley? I've never been before."

"It's wonderful." He laughed softly, his smile revealing deep dimples in his cheeks. "Truthfully, I wasn't very happy when I first heard that I was assigned there. I was hoping that my first assignment would be somewhere with more excitement, like Cape Fullerton, but I've grown to love Hope Valley. It's a town full of kind, generous people. Not to say that it doesn't have its fair share of trouble—they wouldn't need a Mountie if that were the case—but most of the time, it feels like a family."

"That's comforting to hear. I haven't really had much of an opportunity to learn about the town."

He looked at her curiously for a moment. "So what exactly is bringing you there, Miss…?"

"Elizabeth Thatcher. I'm the new teacher."

"Oh, that's great. The parents will be thrilled with your arrival. The last teacher left before I arrived in town, so the children haven't been able to attend school for a while now." He paused for a moment before continuing. "You are aware that there isn't a school building, right?"

"What?" Her eyes widened. "No. That wasn't mentioned when I was offered the position. Where do they hold classes?"

"They were doing school in the saloon, but like I said, they haven't had a teacher in a while. The original school building burned down a while ago, and it hasn't been rebuilt." He smiled at her reaction, holding back a chuckle. "You might have a bit of a wake-up call when you get there. Life in Hope Valley is a far cry from the life I'm sure you're used to."

She tugged on the sleeves of her traveling suit, suddenly feeling a bit self-conscious. She should've worn something different, something that wouldn't make her stand out so much.

"Hey, don't worry, Miss Thatcher. I apologize for saying that. I didn't mean anything by it. I'm sure you'll settle in just fine eventually. I am curious, though." He glanced over at her. "Why did you choose to go somewhere as far away as Hope Valley? Surely you could've gotten a teaching post closer to home."

She was quiet for a moment as she debated how much to tell him. "I was offered a position in Hamilton, and I was planning on taking it, but then I decided…I needed to get away. I had also been offered the position in Hope Valley, so I took that one instead, and here I am." She shrugged.

Get away from what? he wanted to ask, but he kept his mouth shut. It wasn't his business, anyway.

"Constable Thornton, could you tell me more about Hope Valley?"

"I can, but first, you can call me Jack." He smirked. "After all, we're likely to see each other frequently once we get to town."

"Alright, Jack." She breathed deeply, enjoying the feel of his name on her lips. "I suppose you can call me Elizabeth, then."

"Okay, Elizabeth. What would you like to know about your new home?"

"Tell me about the people." She pulled a paper from her bag, reading the name signed on the bottom of the note. "What do you know about Abigail Stanton?"

He smiled. "Where do I begin with Abigail? She's basically the heart and soul of Hope Valley, though she wouldn't agree with that description. She's been through a lot of hardship in her life, but you wouldn't know it."

As the train moved further from Hamilton and closer to Hope Valley, Jack continued to tell Elizabeth all about the town and its people. He explained how it had been a coal mining town called Coal Valley, but following a tragic accident, the mine had been closed and the town renamed. He told her how many of the women in town were now widows, many of the children without fathers. He talked about the case against the mining company and how he had been assigned to the town to help with investigations into the accident.

In turn, Elizabeth told him a bit about herself. She explained that she had wanted to be a teacher her entire life, and that Hope Valley would be her first teaching post. She talked about her sisters, one older and one younger, and about her mother and father, leaving out the fact that many people referred to her family as 'Hamilton royalty.'

The hours seemed to fly by as they chatted, and before they knew it, the train was pulling into the station for their first stop.

After a short walk to stretch their legs, they settled back into their seats, picking up their conversation exactly where it left off.

The remainder of the train ride was uneventful. Elizabeth was very much looking forward to arriving in her new home, feeling as though she had already been there with all that Jack had told her about the town.

After they reached the final station, Elizabeth's trunk and Jack's bag were loaded onto the stagecoach, ready to make the last leg of the journey to Hope Valley.

"Never been in a stagecoach before?" Jack questioned with a smile when he noticed Elizabeth gripping the window frame with one hand and the cushion beneath her with the other.

"It's been a while. I've forgotten how bumpy it is, especially after being on a train for so long."

He chuckled. "Well, you'd better get used to this. There are hardly any cars in Hope Valley, so any traveling you need to do to and from town will have to be by wagon, horse, or stage."

"Horse?" Her eyes went wide. "I can't remember the last time I rode a horse. I was probably a small child. And I've certainly never ridden for long distances."

"I could teach you, if you'd like. I've been riding all my life and, well, I'm a Mountie, so I spend a lot of time on horses."

"I might have to take you up on that, thank you."

...

After a few hours, the stagecoach finally began to slow. Elizabeth peered out the window, seeing a small collection of buildings standing on either side of a gravel road.

The water tower boasted the name of the town. Hope Valley. Her new home.

When the coach pulled to a stop and the door was opened, she saw a woman standing there.

"Jack, welcome back." The woman smiled, pulling Jack into a hug. "How is your brother?"

"He's doing much better, thank you for asking." He turned, holding out his hand to help Elizabeth out of the stagecoach.

"Thank you," she stated quietly, trying to ignore the butterflies that rose in her stomach when his fingers closed around hers.

"Abigail, this is Elizabeth Thatcher. Elizabeth, this is Abigail Stanton."

"Our new teacher." She reached out to shake Elizabeth's hand. "How wonderful to meet you officially. I trust you had a decent trip here?"

"I did."

"And I see you've already met our Constable."

She nodded, a smile playing on her lips. "Constable Thornton and I were on the same train from Hamilton. He's told me a lot about your town here."

Jack spoke up again. "Elizabeth, would you like some help with your trunk?"

"Yes, please. And thank you."

Abigail linked her arm with Elizabeth's as they followed Jack away from Main Street. "You'll be staying in the teacherage. I'll take you there now. It's not much, but it'll be a roof over your head."

"I'm sure it's lovely."

Once inside, Elizabeth decided that "lovely" probably wasn't the best word to describe the teacherage.

It was comprised of a small living area and an even smaller bedroom. A rusty stove sat in the corner next to a rough wooden shelf. The whole bedroom was nearly filled by the bed, which was half the size of the one she slept on in Hamilton. She couldn't help but think the whole building could fit in her childhood bedroom.

"I'm sorry that we weren't able to fix it up more. It has been cleaned, though, and the quilt on the bed is new. If you'd like, we can have the walls repainted."

"This will be just fine. Thank you, Mrs. Stanton."

"Oh, please, call me Abigail. I live over the café, so don't hesitate to come by if you ever need anything. It's just next door to the stagecoach stop. Now, I'll let you get settled in. Stop by the café around six, and I'll make sure you get a meal on the house."

"Thank you, Abigail."

After Abigail left, Elizabeth stood in the center of the room, trying to decide where to begin. There was no real place to store her belongings, so her books and clothes would have to stay in the trunk for now.

She walked around the small rooms, making note of various things that would help it feel more like a home: new curtains, pots and pans, a washtub, more shelves. She sighed.

This was going to take a lot of work—and lots of trips to the mercantile.

A knock sounded at the door, breaking her from her thoughts.

"Hi, Elizabeth." Jack stood on the other side of the door. "If you aren't busy right now, I was thinking maybe I could show you around town."

"That would be lovely. Thank you." She grabbed her shawl from the back of the threadbare chair and followed him out the door.

"Now, I'll warn you, there's not a lot to see."

"I'm definitely not in Hamilton anymore," she mumbled under her breath.

Jack chuckled. "I promise, you'll get used to it eventually. This town is special." They walked side-by-side down the gravel road until they reached the town. "I know you saw this briefly when we first arrived in town. This is Main Street. It's about all there is to see of Hope Valley, aside from the old mine and the row houses."

They meandered slowly down the street, Jack pointing out each building they passed: Abigail's Café, the Mercantile, the new lumber office.

Elizabeth was introduced to every person they came across, and though she tried her hardest to remember each of them, she knew it would take some time for her to recognize most of the townsfolk.

"This is the jail." Jack paused in front of one of the buildings. "If I'm not out doing my rounds or getting a meal, you can probably find me in there. I live here."

"You live at the jail?" Her eyes went wide.

He shrugged. "I was staying in a room over the saloon, but it was a little too noisy for me."

"The same saloon where I'm supposed to teach the children?"

He chuckled. "One and the same. If you give me a minute, I'll walk you over there so you can get a look inside."

...

She stopped just inside the doorway of the saloon. "I'm supposed to teach in here? Not to sound ungrateful, but this is definitely not what I expected when I accepted this position."

"It's not too bad. There are plenty of tables and chairs for the children, there are some books back there," he pointed toward the bookshelf wedged against the back wall, "there's a desk and a chalkboard. Seems like you have everything you need."

"Well, I suppose I do. Will there be people coming in and out all day?"

"There shouldn't be. The saloon doesn't officially open until late afternoon, so you shouldn't have anyone giving you trouble."

She rubbed her neck, and Jack noticed a few bruises blooming just above the neckline of her blouse. Is that why you left Hamilton? he wanted to ask. To get away from somebody?

"Well," her voice broke through his thoughts. "I should start going through everything in here and get some lesson plans together to make sure I'm ready for classes to begin on Monday."

"I'll leave you to it, then." He gave a little nod and walked away, turning around to glance at her once before leaving the room.

He had a feeling he'd be seeing a lot of Elizabeth Thatcher, and he didn't mind that one bit.