May 1915

Gabe Kinslow pulled Apollo to a stop as he crested a ridge. Down below, he saw a town nestled in a valley, a valley picturesquely surrounded by mountains and forest. It was a lovely view of the town that would now be his home.

The town that was grieving the loss of Jack Thornton.

Gabe sighed, his own grief welling up yet again. He remembered all too easily the horror of watching Jack get shot, watching him fall to the ground as the battle continued to rage. The Mounties had been victorious, but it had come at great cost to them.

Neither Gabe nor Nathan had been able to attend Jack's funeral. Their gunshot wounds became infected, leading to a much longer recovery than the wound itself called for. Gabe had largely recovered by the time of the funeral, but he was too weak to travel. Nathan's injuries had taken longer to heal, since he was shot in the chest and stomach. He had very nearly succumbed to the infection, but eventually, to Gabe's relief, he pulled through.

Gabe had left his friend in Alberta with his sister Colleen. She was to make sure Nathan recovered fully before he joined Gabe in Hope Valley. They both thought it fitting to honor Jack's request. He'd said the town would be a perfect place for Nathan to settle down. He'd said Gabe was the one he'd want watching over it if something happened to him.

To honor his fallen friend, as soon as he had recovered, Gabe put in a request for a permanent transfer to Hope Valley. It was granted without fanfare. He was given an arrival date of the middle of May. Mayor Stanton and Sheriff Avery had been alerted to his arrival. The mayor's acceptance of his assignment sounded cautious, while the sheriff's seemed downright hostile.

Gabe liked to scope out his surroundings before jumping into something. A new assignment was no different. So here he was, a few days before he was supposed to arrive, ready to get to know his new town without anyone knowing who he was.

He nudged Apollo into a trot. Man and horse quickly made their way from the ridge to the valley. As he entered the town, Gabe's observatory skills kicked into gear. He noted where things were – the Office of the Mayor, the NWMP office, the saloon, the café, the infirmary, the mercantile. A mental map of the town formed in his head. After finding the livery and making sure Apollo was taken care of, Gabe slung his bag over his shoulder and made his way to the saloon. He'd heard The White Stallion doubled as a hotel – the only hotel in town. Once he made his profession known, he would live in the extra room in the NWMP office. It had a bed, dresser, and stove - everything he would need. Until then, he would bunk in a hotel room.

He checked in with Tom Trevoy, the owner of the saloon. The man showed him to a small, clean room before heading back downstairs to his customers. It only took Gabe a few minutes to settle in. He didn't have a lot of possessions, preferring to live simply. Everything he owned fit in the bag he'd carried with him into town.

Once settled, Gabe made his way down the stairs. His stomach rumbled, reminding him he hadn't eaten since yesterday. Briefly, he wondered if he should eat here in the saloon or go to the café. A memory surfaced, one of Jack telling him that Mayor Stanton ran Abigail's Café, home of the best food in Hope Valley. Decision made, Gabe headed for the café.

The interior was homey and smelled heavenly. Gabe's mouth watered at the sight of pot roast with mashed potatoes and carrots. It appeared to be the special of the day, and most patrons of the café were enjoying it. He found a seat. Moments later, a young brunette woman came to take his order. She smiled, took his order, and poured his coffee before vanishing into the kitchen. Gabe took a sip of the coffee, then closed his eyes. It was the best coffee he'd had in a very long time.

A slap to a nearby table made him jump. Casually, so as not to be caught spying, Gabe glanced to the side. An older man with blond hair was gesturing with one hand while the other lay flat on the table. A sheriff's star gleamed from his vest, telling Gabe immediately that this was Sheriff Avery.

"I don't care what the Mounties think!" the man ground out. "Jack hasn't even been gone for three months, and they're sending some green-nosed kid to take his place? It's not right!"

Gabe blinked. Green-nosed kid? He couldn't help smiling, though Sheriff Avery's assessment of him was not a flattering one.

The man he was talking to leaned back in his chair. His dark hair was neatly combed and he wore nice clothes that spoke of success. "Bill, you knew this was coming. Sooner or later, the Mounties were going to assign a replacement for Jack. I know it's hard. I'm struggling to see someone else in that role. But we can't snub him just because he's Jack's replacement." The man chuckled, his blue eyes flickering with amusement. "What did you think would happen? That you'd remain sheriff indefinitely?"

"Well…yes!" Bill sputtered. "I'm perfectly capable of taking care of this town. We don't need another Mountie swooping in and taking over. I have things handled, Lee!"

Lee. Gabe studied the dark-haired man. That must be Jack's friend, the one who had the thriving sawmill. He seemed to be a level-headed fellow. While Bill was passionate and given to bursts of emotion, Lee seemed more laid-back and practical.

"You always have things handled, Bill. No one is arguing that." Lee stood, pinning Bill with a look. "But you know better than to judge a book by its cover. Give the new guy a chance. He might surprise you." He leaned forward, a glimpse of grief in his eyes. "No one can replace Jack. We're all still hurting over his loss. But we can't live in the past. We have to move forward. That's what Jack would have wanted."

Gabe thought Bill might argue the point, but the older man suddenly wilted. Watching in shock, Gabe saw the sheriff fighting tears. "You're right," he said heavily.

Lee chuckled, patting Bill's shoulder. "I know I am."

Bill glared at Lee, which only made the other man chuckle again. Crossing his arms, the sheriff leaned back in his chair. "I'll be civil to the new guy. But I won't like it."

"Whatever you say, Sheriff," Lee said good-naturedly, tossing some money onto the table to pay for his meal. "I'll see you later."

As Lee left the café, the young waitress appeared with Gabe's food. She set it in front of him, then tilted her head. "Can I get you anything else?"

He smiled, shaking his head. "No, thanks. This looks perfect."

The woman smiled back. "Abigail makes the best pot roast in Hope Valley."

Gabe sampled the dish, immediately giving a low groan. "I'd venture a guess that Abigail makes the best pot roast in Canada," he said, taking another bite of the rich, savory dish. "Please give my compliments to the chef."

"I will," the woman said. She held out her hand. "I'm Clara."

He shook it. "Gabe."

"Nice to meet you, Gabe," Clara said. "Abigail just left for the mayor's office, or I would have her come meet you. She will be happy to hear of your compliment."

Gabe nodded in acknowledgement. "I'm sure I'll be back tomorrow," he said, chuckling. "Maybe I'll catch her then."

Clara smiled, then headed back to the kitchen. Gabe ate his meal in peace and solitude, enjoying every bite. He might be up for a rocky reception in Hope Valley, but at least he knew he would eat well in this town.

That evening, Gabe took his dinner in the saloon. His senses were on high alert, catching names and occupations and attitudes. He kept a mug of beer in hand as he observed the residents of Hope Valley.

Bill and Lee were there, along with men named Henry, Jesse, and Carson. From what Gabe gathered, the first two worked for Lee while the third was the town doctor. They were playing a game of poker at the table beside his. Another table housed a group of women who were animatedly chatting about something. Gabe couldn't quite keep up with their rapid-fire words and exclamations. He did catch their names. Rosemary, Faith, Molly, Florence, Dottie, and Clara. It almost looked like they were having a quilting bee, though Gabe couldn't for the life of him figure out why they'd be doing that in a saloon.

A shadow passed over him. Gabe looked up to see two women walk by his table. One of them caught sight of him. She was middle-aged, with dark blonde curls and a pair of the kindest brown eyes Gabe had ever seen. The other was younger, with long brunette hair and blue eyes that were marred with sadness. She continued to the quilting table.

He recognized the second woman immediately. Jack had shown her picture numerous times. Elizabeth Thatcher.

A pang of grief hit him, along with an irrational sense of guilt for being alive while her fiancé had died. Gabe looked down, staring into his beer. It wasn't the first time he'd felt this strange survivor's guilt, but somehow seeing Elizabeth Thatcher made it more acute, as if he was the one responsible for Jack's death.

"Excuse me." A gentle voice broke into his thoughts. Gabe looked up to see the blonde woman standing in front of him. She wore a welcoming smile.

"I'm Abigail Stanton," she said, holding out a hand.

Gabe stood, clasping her offered hand firmly in his. "Gabe," he said in return. He knew he would have to use his full name soon, but he couldn't quite bring himself to reveal who he was. Not yet.

Abigail smiled. "It's nice to meet you, Gabe. What brings you to Hope Valley?"

Gabe froze for a brief moment. How was he supposed to answer that honestly without giving himself away? "Uh…a friend recommended your town as a great place to visit," he said. "Apparently Hope Valley is known for warmth and kindness." He smiled. "The world could use a lot more of that."

Abigail's smile grew. "We do try to take care of our own and welcome strangers," she said. "How long are you visiting?"

Gabe was saved from answering when Elizabeth came by the table again. She placed a hand on Abigail's arm. "I think I'm just going to go home," she said quietly. "I'm not up for socializing tonight."

Sympathy filled Abigail's gaze. She nodded, wrapping the younger woman in an embrace. "Let me know if you need anything."

"I will." Elizabeth turned her attention to Gabe, giving him a nod and a small smile, then turned and headed outside.

Abigail looked at Gabe once more, opening her mouth to say something. A loud shout interrupted whatever it was she had been about to say.

"You cheater!"

Everyone swiveled to see a large man rising from a poker table, pointing his finger at the smaller man across from him. "No one cheats me and gets away with it!"

Gabe didn't stop to think. He rose from his chair and made his way to the ruckus, stepping between the two men. "There's no need for trouble," he said firmly. "You gentlemen need to work this out in a calm, rational – "

His words were cut off as the larger man threw a punch at the smaller. He missed, hitting Gabe square in the jaw instead. Gabe gasped at the burning sensation, but his Mountie instincts kicked in. As the larger man attempted to charge the other, Gabe stopped him with his body, pushing him down to the floor and pressing his knee into the man's back.

"Knock it off!"

A voice bellowed above them. Gabe felt himself yanked to his feet. The other man was jerked up too. Gabe glanced back to see Bill Avery's annoyed expression meet him. "You two can cool off in the jail for a few hours," he muttered, pushing them forward. "Let's go."

Gabe dug his heels in, refusing to be pushed around. "Now wait just a minute!"

Bill froze. He glared at Gabe. "I'm the sheriff in this town," he growled. "Are you resisting arrest?"

Gabe stared back, refusing to be intimidated. "No, I am not. You have no cause to arrest me. I was just trying to help."

Bill barked out a laugh. "Here in these parts, we let the law take care of things," he said. "Civilians have no right to wrestle other civilians to the ground, saloon or not." He pushed Gabe forward again. "Now get moving or I'll officially arrest you for contempt."

"I don't think so," Gabe said coolly. "I was simply doing my job."

Bill's eyes narrowed. The older man was clearly losing the little patience he'd had. "And what job might that be?" he asked sarcastically. He didn't give Gabe time to reply. "Who do you think you are? You can't come waltzing in here acting like you have any right to protect this town. "

Gabe straightened, looking Bill directly in the eyes. "I'm Gabriel Kinslow," he said, his voice loud and clear. "And I have every right to protect this town. I'm your new Mountie."

Elizabeth felt her breaths coming faster. She stared at Abigail, hands shaking. "He's here? Already?" Her voice trembled. "I didn't know it would be so soon."

She'd heard of the arrival of Constable Kinslow. Apparently he'd made quite an impression on the residents of their town while breaking up a barroom brawl.

Abigail slid an arm around Elizabeth. "We knew he was scheduled to arrive next week," she said gently. "He came a little early to get to know the place." She paused. "I'm afraid his reception hasn't exactly been the most welcoming from the townspeople."

The shaking moved to Elizabeth's legs. She closed her eyes, trying to reconcile the fact that Jack had already been replaced. Her already sensitive emotions suddenly felt raw, as if salt had been poured into a wound just beginning to heal. She wasn't sure she could face the man yet. It would hurt too much.

"I have to go."

She walked from the café, gulping in deep breaths of spring air. For the next week, she managed to avoid Constable Kinslow. Occasionally she caught glimpses of him. The first time she saw the red serge in the streets, it stopped her in her tracks. She ducked behind a building, breathing in slowly to calm her turbulent emotions. As she slowly, very slowly, grew used to the idea of a new Mountie in town, she began to notice other things.

People regarded the constable with distrust and suspicion. She saw him smile and tip his hat to people in the street. They didn't smile back. Several turned their backs to him. His smile would falter, but he continued on his way, trying again with a new set of people only to get the same results. After two weeks of seeing him spurned, Elizabeth's heart began to soften toward the man. It was hardly his fault he received such an unwelcome reception. He was living in Jack's shadow, and it couldn't be easy.

Riding out to the graveyard one afternoon, Elizabeth sat by Jack's grave and contemplated what to do. She knew if she extended a welcome to Constable Kinslow, the townspeople would follow suit. She knew Abigail and Lee were already trying to befriend the man, but the rest of the town seemed barely civil. Elizabeth couldn't blame them – she had been avoiding the man herself, after all. Looking at Jack's headstone, she wondered what he would have done.

Something ruffled in the breeze, bringing her attention to the ground. A small piece of paper was folded up under a rock at the base of Jack's grave. Elizabeth reached for it, smoothing it open. A gasp escaped as she took in the picture. It was clearly one of Jack's pencil drawings. Three men in Mountie uniforms had sabers drawn and pressed together in an "all for one" configuration. In Jack's bold script at the top were the words The Three Musketeers. Names were under each Mountie.

Grant. Thornton.

Kinslow.

Another gasp escaped. She remembered with sudden clarity Jack telling her about his two close friends in the Northern Territories. Nathan Grant...and Gabriel Kinslow.

Folding the paper, Elizabeth carefully placed it back under its rock. Standing, she pressed a kiss to her fingers and touched them to Jack's headstone. "Thank you for the guidance," she whispered. She rode back to town, then made her way to the NWMP office. Tying her horse to the post, she gathered her courage and walked up the familiar steps.

The door was open. Constable Kinslow had his back to her, sitting in a chair on the wrong side of the desk. Elizabeth wondered at that briefly, but pushed the thought aside. She was here for more important reasons.

"Hello." The single word hung in the Mountie office, heavy with a sense of gravity.

Constable Kinslow turned. His eyes widened and he stood immediately. "Ma'am," he said, his brown eyes meeting hers. His hair, black and slightly unruly, glistened in the light, almost as if he'd recently dunked it in water.

Elizabeth took a step forward. "I'm Elizabeth Thatcher."

He smiled sadly. "I know. It's a pleasure to meet you, ma'am. Jack told me so much about you."

She smiled back, one hand floating to her heart. "You knew Jack." It was a statement. She knew the answer, but she wanted to hear it from him.

He nodded. "He was my unit commander in the Northern Territories. We became very good friends. He always spoke so highly of you and this town."

A pang passed through her. Jack had talked up Hope Valley, and they had been anything but welcoming when Constable Kinslow came to live here. She resolved to be a friend to the man who had been a friend to Jack. "If Jack befriended you, he must have thought highly of you too," she said, extending an olive branch. She smiled. "I saw the drawing at his grave. You left that there, didn't you?"

Constable Kinslow smiled, relaxing slightly. "Yes, ma'am. Jack gave me that drawing one night, saying it encapsulated everything about our relationship with each other and Constable Grant, the other man in our group. We went by the three musketeers." Sadness filled his eyes. "Jack was a good man," he said. "It was a pleasure serving with him."

Something nagged at Elizabeth's mind. If this man had served with Jack, did that mean…?

She wondered if she had the courage to ask the question forming inside. Her hands shook slightly. She clasped them together tightly. "Constable Kinslow, I wonder if you might answer a question for me."

He nodded. "I'll do my best."

She took a deep breath, almost afraid to know the answer. "Were you with Jack when he died?"

Constable Kinslow's face shadowed. His words came out reluctant. "Yes, ma'am. I was."

Elizabeth almost lost her courage, but she pressed on. "Did he…did he suffer?"

The man's eyes closed, his throat convulsing. A knot of dread curled in Elizabeth's stomach as she waited for his answer. Finally, he opened his eyes again, looking at her directly. "Not for long, Miss Thatcher. His pain was brief."

Tears welled in her eyes, but she nodded. "Thank you for your honesty, Constable." Jack had been in pain, but it hadn't been long. The words brought a small measure of comfort.

He took a step forward. "Jack was the bravest man I know," he said softly. "He saved my life on many different occasions. I'm here…" He trailed off, swallowing. "I'm here because he said if anything were to happen to him, he'd want me looking out for this town."

Elizabeth's throat worked. That sounded like something Jack would do. He'd want to know Hope Valley was well protected and looked after. She smiled, nodding her head toward the door. "Walk with me?"

Constable Kinslow nodded, following her out the door. They walked down the steps together. Elizabeth could see the townspeople looking their way. Some whispered while others watched in open-mouthed astonishment.

Elizabeth looked up at the man beside her. "I know your start here has been rough," she said. "It might remain so for a time. But if Jack trusted us to you, then people will come to see why over time." She placed a hand on his arm. He looked surprised, but he didn't pull away. "This is a wonderful place to live," she said. "I'm glad you're here." She smiled. "Welcome to Hope Valley, Constable."

She gave him a nod, which he returned, then began walking. Her body trembled with the significance of what she'd just done in welcoming Jack's replacement to town. Glancing back, she saw that three people had come up to him, engaging Constable Kinslow in conversation. She smiled, a sense of freedom washing over her.

Someone came up behind her, linking her arm. "I'm so proud of you," Abigail whispered, a wide smile on her face. "You were very brave, Elizabeth."

Elizabeth smiled back. It was a small step, but she knew it had been the right one.