Carson's arm tightened around Elizabeth's waist as the new Mountie touched the brim of his hat and began riding toward town. He took in her white face and her shocked expression. Worried that she might faint, he eased her back into the house. She followed without a word. Halfway to the settee, she went limp.

A shot of alarm pulsed through Carson. Without thought, he lifted her up into his arms, cradling her against his chest. "Elizabeth?"

There was no response.

He carried her to the settee, laying her down before taking one knee beside her. He began firmly patting her cheek, hoping to rouse her from her faint. When she didn't respond, he sat back on his heels, trying not to let fear overwhelm him. He knew it sometimes took a while for someone to come out of a faint. But seeing Elizabeth unconscious tore at his heart.

Swallowing, Carson stared at her beautiful face. Something had happened to him as he came over most days for lunch. He slowly stopped seeing Elizabeth as just a friend and patient, and began seeing her as a woman. An attraction had been growing, one that horrified him. She had just lost her husband, and she was pregnant. The last thing on her mind would be a new relationship. Just a short time ago, he'd felt such a strong attraction to her, he knew he had to get out of there fast. She looked confused at his abrupt departure, and he prayed she didn't suspect that he was developing feelings for her.

She needed a friend. Nothing more.

Her reaction to Constable Everson was proof that she was still grieving. He certainly didn't blame her. It had to have been a shock seeing the red serge and knowing the Mounties sent a replacement for Jack. Carson leaned forward, patting her cheek once more, hoping she would wake up. When her eyelids began fluttering, he couldn't help a sigh of relief.

"Wake up, Elizabeth," he said gently, running a hand over her forehead.

She moaned. "What happened?" she asked weakly.

Carson didn't think rehashing the conversation with Constable Everson was a good idea. Instead, he let his hand rest on her cheek. "You fainted," he said. "May I have permission to check the pulse in your neck?"

Elizabeth nodded. Carson pressed two fingers over her carotid artery. Her pulse was slower than he would have liked, but he knew that it should return to normal shortly. He wasn't leaving until it had.

"I'm going to get you some water," he said.

Elizabeth nodded again. The vacant look in her eyes worried Carson, but he decided to give her a moment to think before asking her what was on her mind. He poured a glass of cold water and went back to her. Placing the cup on the table, he helped Elizabeth sit up before handing her the glass. She took it gratefully as he sat beside her, downing the liquid in several long swallows. When she finished, she put the cup down and surprised Carson by taking his hands in hers.

"Why, Carson?" she asked brokenly, tears swimming in her eyes. "Why would the Mounties send someone to replace Jack so quickly? He hasn't been gone long. Seeing that boy in the same serge my husband wore…" She dissolved into tears, leaning into him and crying against his chest.

Heart breaking for her, Carson wrapped his arms around Elizabeth and held her close. Though jolts of attraction shot through him, he staunchly ignored them and instead focused on comforting her. He didn't try to answer her questions. He knew they were rhetorical. She was trying to process the fact that another man had been sent in Jack's place. Of course it was a shock. She had finally begun to heal from his loss, and this new assignment ripped open the wound once more.

She cried for a long time. Carson just held her, her sorrow piercing him. Eventually, she cried herself to sleep. Laying her down on the settee, Carson took a handkerchief from his pocket, gently wiping the moisture from her face. He covered her with a blanket. Leaning down, he pressed a chaste kiss to her forehead. "I'll find someone so you won't be alone when you wake," he whispered, even knowing she couldn't hear him. He tucked the blanket more securely around her, then slipped quietly from the house and went in search of Rosemary.

Brandon Everson felt eyes boring into him as he led his horse through town. As soon as they caught sight of the red serge, people stopped and stared, mouths gaping. A few whispered to each other. He felt the shock. He felt the displeasure.

It was no less than he deserved. If they knew the truth of why he was here, they would reject him outright.

Gritting his teeth, Brandon continued toward the Office of the Mayor. He tethered Jasper to a hitching post, then slowly climbed the steps. Before he reached the door, it opened. A woman he assumed was the mayor smiled at him. "Hello, Constable," she said. "Won't you come in?"

Brandon followed her into the pleasant office, taking his hat from his head. The mayor closed the door behind him. When she turned, she held out her hand. "I'm Abigail Stanton," she said.

"Brandon Everson," he replied, shaking her hand. "It's nice to meet you, ma'am."

"You can call me Abigail," she said easily. "Everyone does." She motioned him to her desk. When they were both seated, she leaned forward. "How can I help you, young man?"

Brandon pulled his orders from his pocket. "I've been assigned to Hope Valley," he said, handing her the official document.

Surprise flashed over Abigail's face. She blinked, trying to mask it, but Brandon's throat constricted. Jack Thornton had only been gone a few months. Seeing the uniform once again, so soon after his death, had to be shocking for the people of this town.

Abigail cleared her throat. "I apologize," she said. "I wasn't expecting a new Mountie yet. We thought it would take…well, never mind that." She looked down at the document. It was obvious she was collecting herself. When she looked at him once more, another smile graced her features. "Welcome to Hope Valley, Constable Everson," she said softly. "If there's anything I can do to make your transition here smooth, let me know."

Brandon fidgeted with his hat. He didn't expect to find welcome here. "Thank you, ma'am."

Her eyes sparkled. "I'm not that old, young man," she said with mock sternness. "You don't have to 'ma'am' me."

He chuckled, feeling a slight release in tension. "Abigail, then. Perhaps you could point me in the direction of my new office? I was told there were living quarters there."

"There are," Abigail said slowly. "But they're still holding Jack's things." She paused for a moment, thinking. "Why don't you take the rooms upstairs here?" she suggested. "The previous occupant found a new place to live, and the rooms are fully furnished and ready to live in."

"I couldn't possibly…" Brandon began to protest.

Abigail held up a hand. "Believe me, it will be more comfortable than the tiny room at the NWMP office." She glanced out the glass doors. "Do you have your things with you?"

"Not much," Brandon admitted. "I was planning on getting whatever I might need while here in town. I have a bag with clothes and a few personal items."

Abigail's brows rose. "You don't keep much baggage. That can be a good thing."

Not when all your baggage is emotional.

Brandon shoved the thought away. "Thank you for the accommodations, Abigail. I appreciate that." His stomach rumbled, making his cheeks burn. "I don't suppose you have any recommendations for where to find food?"

Abigail chuckled. "As a matter of fact, I do." She stood. "Come with me, young man. I know just the place to get you a home-cooked meal." She winked. "I happen to own the local cafe."

Smiling, Brandon responded to her warmth. "You do it all, don't you?"

"Pretty much," she said, with no trace of arrogance. After just five minutes, Brandon already liked Abigail. She had a motherliness to her that was appealing. His heart dropped as he wondered what she would think of him once the truth became known. He sighed, rubbing a hand over his face.

Abigail mistook it as weariness. "Let's get some food in you, then get you settled," she instructed.

Brandon allowed himself to be mothered. It was a nice change, and one that probably wouldn't last long. Placing his hat back on his head, he followed the mayor out the door.

Elizabeth woke feeling disoriented. Her eyes were puffy and swollen. Wincing, she realized her head hurt. She struggled to sit up. Instantly, someone slipped an arm around her shoulders.

"Easy. You've had quite a shock."

Rosemary's face came into view. She wore a look of sympathy. "Are you alright?"

Memories came back to flood Elizabeth. She sighed, sagging against the back of the settee. "Not really."

Her friend hugged her. "Carson asked me to come over. He told me what happened. I can't imagine how hard it must have been seeing someone come to take Jack's place."

Elizabeth simply nodded. Tears burned her eyes again. "It hurts, Rosemary. Why would they do that?"

"I don't know," Rosemary admitted. "Hope Valley needs protection, but it does seem rather soon for another Mountie to be assigned here."

Sighing, Elizabeth leaned her head on Rosemary's shoulder. "I guess I'll have to get used to the idea. Constable Everson is so young. He couldn't have missed my distress when he said he was our new Mountie."

"I'm just glad you weren't alone when you found out," Rosemary said quietly. "Carson being here was a blessing."

"Yes," Elizabeth agreed. "He's been there in some of my hardest moments. I'm glad he was here when we met Constable Everson. If I was alone and fainted, I might have hurt myself or the baby." She shivered at the thought. A hand went to rest protectively over her child. "I don't know what I would do if something happened to Jack's baby."

A knock sounded at the door before Rosemary could reply. It opened to reveal Charlotte. Elizabeth's mother-in-law came into the room and sat on Elizabeth's other side. "I just saw the new kid in town," she said, sympathy in her voice. "How are you, Lizzy?"

Elizabeth exhaled. "I've been better." She turned the question on Charlotte. "How are you?"

Charlotte's lips curved into a smile. "I like him."

Rosemary and Elizabeth blinked in unison. "You met him?" Elizabeth asked, incredulous.

Charlotte nodded. "I did. He came in for lunch at Abigail's. We chatted for a few minutes." A slight frown puckered her brows. "He became a little guarded when he found out who I was. It was like a veil fell over his eyes when he heard the name Thornton."

Her own meeting with Constable Everson flashed through Elizabeth's mind. "That happened when he heard my name too," she said. "He told me he knew Jack. And he is very young." Her eyes widened. "What if he was one of the recruits Jack was training?" Her heart pounded. "Do you think he witnessed Jack's…death?"

Both women beside her were quiet. Charlotte wore a thoughtful look on her face. "That wouldn't surprise me," she said finally. "He looks like he's barely old enough to be away from home, much less a Mountie. It wouldn't be a stretch to say he's fresh from the academy. Logically, the only place he could have met Jack would be at Fort Clay."

Instinctively, Elizabeth knew that was the case. Brandon Everson had been with Jack at Fort Clay. What was their connection?

The question pressed on Elizabeth's mind over the next few weeks. She didn't see Constable Everson often, as she was confined to her home, but there were a few times they crossed paths. She liked to sit on her front porch to get some fresh air, and every so often she caught the young constable as he passed on rounds. He always gave her a nod and a tip of his hat. There was an unmistakable sadness in his eyes when he looked at her. It soon garnered Elizabeth's empathy. She might be hurting from Jack's loss, but it was clear this young man was hurting as well. She just didn't know why.

Elizabeth wanted to find out.

One chilly morning, she waited outside until Constable Everson rode by. He gave her his typical greeting, but instead of letting him pass, Elizabeth stood. "A moment of your time, please, Constable Everson?"

He hesitated, reining in his horse. For a moment, Elizabeth thought he might deny her request. Instead, he dismounted and inclined his head. "What can I do for you, Mrs. Thornton?"

She managed a smile. "I have some hot tea inside. Would you like a cup?"

He blinked, clearly not expecting that. Elizabeth turned, waving him into the house. "Come along, young man. I want to talk with you."

A prisoner on his way to the gallows couldn't have been more reluctant. Constable Everson took halting steps, coming to a stop a few feet inside the house. "I'm not sure I have time, ma'am. I need to finish my rounds."

Elizabeth raised a brow, pointing to the table. "Have a seat." Her tone left no room for argument. The young man obeyed, though it was clear he was nervous. Elizabeth placed a cup of tea in front of him, softening her tone. "Jack used to make detours during his rounds all the time. This is a small town, Constable Everson. It's alright to stop and chat on occasion."

His body relaxed slightly. "You can call me Brandon, ma'am. I haven't gotten used to being called 'constable' quite yet."

Elizabeth sat beside him with a smile. "You're new to the force?"

He nodded, sipping his tea. His eyes darted to her stomach. "I am. Your husband was my training instructor at Fort Clay." He swallowed, sudden tears welling in his eyes. "I knew he left behind a widow, ma'am. I didn't know he left behind a child."

Throat tightening with emotion, Elizabeth paused to collect herself. "Neither did he," she replied quietly. "Jack didn't know he was going to be a father. I only found out after I received news of his death."

Tears shone in the young man's eyes. His hands shook. "I'm sorry, Mrs. Thornton. So, so sorry."

She looked up at that. "You have nothing to be sorry for," she said.

He shook his head almost violently. "You don't understand," he insisted, almost choking on the words. "I watched him die." His voice broke.

Elizabeth's heart lurched in her chest. Her hands tightened on the cup. Brandon clearly had more to say, but he was struggling to get it out. Recognizing pain, Elizabeth reached out and placed one hand over his, finding a sudden strength. "It's alright," she said softly. "Take your time."

Gratitude shone along with the tears in his eyes. He gripped her hand tightly, his breaths coming quickly. Elizabeth waited patiently. They shared the same pain, and knowing that made her empathize with the young Mountie.

"I helped pull him out," he whispered. "We dug as fast as we could, hoping against hope that we could save him." Tears fell to his cheeks. "When we found him, it was clear that he wasn't going to make it."

Elizabeth felt a lump form in her throat. She'd wondered if Jack died immediately or if his death was slow. Knowing he experienced some pain shot fresh grief through her heart.

"Did he…suffer long?" she asked, pushing the words past her constricted airway.

Brandon shook his head. "No, ma'am. He died within minutes of us pulling him out."

There was some consolation in that, but not much. Elizabeth let out a breath, fighting tears. The young man beside her continued. "He spoke of you before he died, Mrs. Thornton."

She glanced up at that. "He did?"

Brandon nodded. "He…he asked me to take over for him. He said he wanted to know that you and his town would be protected and cared for." His throat convulsed. "He asked me to tell you that he loved you, and…and that he was sorry he had to go." His hand tightened on hers involuntarily. "That's why I'm here in Hope Valley. I had to honor his final request."

Elizabeth smiled sadly. That sounded exactly like Jack. Even in his final moments, he was making sure others were cared for. "I'm glad you honored his request," she said, giving the Mountie's hand a squeeze. "And I'm glad you were there with him as he died. It gives me comfort to know he wasn't alone."

Brandon shook his head. "He was surrounded by his brothers-in-arms, Mrs. Thornton." He let out a strangled laugh. "He told us he would be watching out for us from heaven."

Elizabeth's smile softened. "I'm sure he will be," she said. "And please, call me Elizabeth."

"Yes, ma'am," he replied. Elizabeth squeezed his hand once more, then let go to sip her tea. A question nagged at her mind, one she was hesitant to ask but needed to know. "The two recruits Jack saved," she said, looking at Brandon. "Where are they now?"

His eyes shadowed. "One carried on with his training and received an assignment. The other dropped out the day after the mudslide." He looked down at the table. "Both felt a crushing weight of guilt over Jack's death."

"It wasn't their fault," Elizabeth said, shaking her head. "That mudslide was an accident."

Brandon didn't respond. He was staring into his cup. His hands were shaking once more. Elizabeth frowned. "Are you alright?"

He jerked, looking up at her with wide eyes. "I think I need to finish my rounds now," he said, his voice shaking as much as his hands. He stood. "Thank you for the tea, Elizabeth."

She stood as well. "Thank you for telling me about Jack's final moments," she said in return. "You've given me a gift."

Brandon let out a hollow laugh. "Did I?"

She nodded, placing a hand on his arm. "You've given me closure," she replied. "Not everyone who loses a loved one in the line of duty gets that."

He stared at her for a moment, clearly struggling to believe her words. Elizabeth wondered how traumatized the young man had been by watching her husband die. An idea came to mind, one that she hoped would help put him more at ease. "I have dinner most nights with my next-door neighbors, Lee and Rosemary Coulter. Why don't you join us a couple times a week? I know they won't mind, and we can help you settle into life in Hope Valley."

Brandon's eyes widened. "Oh, I couldn't impose…" he began.

Elizabeth waved a hand, cutting him off. "I insist. You need to get to know the people if you're going to be caring for our town." She smiled. "How old are you, Brandon?"

He blinked, surprised at the question. "Twenty-two."

She nodded. "I thought so. You're young and you're starting your first assignment. I'd guess you miss home and family."

Brandon looked down. "I do miss my family," he said quietly.

Elizabeth patted his shoulder. "Let us be your family," she said. "We take care of our own in Hope Valley. If Jack requested that you come here, he had confidence in your ability to protect and serve us. If my husband approved of you, so do I."

Brandon blinked back more tears. "I don't deserve that approval," he said.

Elizabeth studied him. There was a haunted look in his eyes, one that hadn't left after he told her about Fort Clay. She instinctively knew there was more to the story, but she also knew now wasn't the time to press him. She would take the time to get to know him, to build trust, and then maybe down the road, he would trust her with whatever he wasn't sharing now.

"I'm sure you do deserve it," she said, walking him to the door. "Jack had good instincts about people."

Brandon looked at her for a few moments, then slowly nodded. "I will try to be worthy of that trust," he said finally. "Thank you, Elizabeth." He put his hat on as he stepped through the door.

Elizabeth smiled at him, resting a hand on her stomach as her child moved within her. "Have a good day, Brandon."

He smiled back, tipping his hat. "You too, ma'am." He swung onto his horse and headed down the path. Elizabeth watched him go. A feeling of freedom lifted her spirits. She glanced up toward heaven with a smile. "I needed that talk with Brandon, Jack," she said quietly. "Thank you for sending him here. I think he's going to fit in well, even if he's still carrying a secret. He's hurting badly. I hope we can help lift that burden from him."

A ray of sunlight broke through the clouds, bathing her in light. She smiled. "I love you, Jack."

The sun shone brighter for a brief moment, almost in reply, then slowly vanished once more behind the clouds.