Alberta, May 1915
"Dead? What do you mean, dead?" Nathan demanded, staring at his sister aghast.
Colleen calmly took a sip of her tea, acting as if she hadn't just dropped a bombshell on her younger brother. "I mean Dylan is dead and buried," she said, placing the teacup on its little saucer. "Has been since February."
"Febru…!" Nathan's mouth dropped. "You said he was on a business trip in Europe all these months!"
Colleen shook her head. Her eyes followed Nathan as he paced back and forth. "Sit down, Nathan, before you wear a hole in the floor."
He did so, still shocked. "What happened? And why have you kept this from me for so long?"
Colleen folded her hands together, suddenly looking nervous. "Dylan had a problem," she said slowly. "He was given to drinking and gambling. I didn't realize that until after our wedding. It got so bad, he gambled away most of our money."
Nathan's stomach clenched. That sounded all too familiar. Much like what their father had done to their mother.
"He was trying to win back some money in February, but he took the dishonest route and cheated." Colleen let out a breath. "The others found out. They didn't like that. A fight ensued, and by the end of it, Dylan and another man had been shot." She looked down. "It happened in a different town. You had just been taken to the hospital with your injuries. I didn't want to bring up something like that, so I kept it to myself and made up the story of him traveling for work." She crossed her arms. "I also knew you wouldn't have left the Mounties if you knew Dylan was gone. I couldn't let you continue doing something out of a sense of duty when it's beyond time for you to pursue your dream."
Nathan's mind spun with the information. He'd never liked Dylan Parks, but he hadn't thought the man was that much of a deadbeat. "You don't seem upset about his death," he observed.
Colleen laughed mirthlessly. "I realized pretty quickly after our marriage that Dylan was not a good man," she said. "There was no love lost between us."
Staring at her, Nathan's heart rate increased. "Did he ever lay a hand on you?"
"No," Colleen said quickly, putting his mind at ease. "He was never violent. But emotionally…" She sighed. "He had a way of beating a person down with words. Suffice it to say, I was not sorry to hear of his death." She bit her lip. "That probably sounds horrible, but it's the truth."
"You never should have married him," Nathan muttered, running a hand through his hair. "That man was a scumbag."
Colleen smiled gently. "Perhaps it was a mistake. But had I not made that mistake, we would not have Allie in our lives."
As if in response, Colleen's eighteen-month-old daughter cried from her room. "She's up from her nap," Colleen said, rising from her chair. "I'll be right back."
Nathan leaned back. He couldn't deny that. Colleen marrying Dylan had been a mistake, but joy came from that mistake. Allie was a precious little girl, effectively wrapping Nathan around her little finger from the moment of her birth.
Colleen carried her into the room. Allie's eyes lit up the moment she saw Nathan. "Unc Nat!" she cooed, reaching out her arms for her uncle.
He melted instantaneously. He took Allie into his arms, inhaling her sweet baby scent. She settled against his chest, content to be held. He looked at his sister. "What will you do now? Mother is traveling to Ireland for a year to be with her sisters. Who is going to take care of you? It sounds like Dylan didn't leave you any money."
Colleen squared her shoulders. "I'll find something to make due," she said determinedly. "I'm an excellent seamstress. I know I can support myself."
Nathan's eyes softened. "It's not just a matter of 'can', Colleen," he said gently. "You are a single mother now, with a very young child. You shouldn't be alone."
Colleen sniffed, wiping a stray tear from her eye. "I'll be fine. Don't worry about me, Nathan. You have your own life to live. You can't constantly be worrying about others. Your dreams matter too, you know."
Nathan curled one hand around Allie, using his other hand to reach out to take Colleen's. "Hey," he said, waiting until she met his eyes. "We're family, Colleen. We help each other." An idea sprang to mind, one that made him smile. "Why don't you come to Hope Valley with me?"
His sister blinked. "What?"
As the idea took hold, excitement filled Nathan. "It's the perfect solution. We're both likely to struggle for a bit. Starting a new business is hard, and you have a little one to provide for in addition to yourself. What if we struggled together until we're both on our feet?"
Colleen raised a brow. "You're really selling this, little brother."
He laughed. "You know life is going to be difficult for both of us for a time. That's natural. But why go it alone? We can rent a house together in Hope Valley. I can help you with Allie. Neither of us will be alone that way." He pleaded to her with his eyes. It would make him feel much better if he could keep an eye on his sister and niece while pursuing his dream.
Colleen mulled it over. When she smiled, Nathan knew he had his answer.
"Alright, Nathan. I'll go with you."
Hope Valley, June 1915
Elizabeth made her weekly visit to Jack's grave. She swung off Sergeant, patting the faithful horse on the nose. The Mounties had gifted him to her just last week, retiring Jack's horse in Hope Valley. Elizabeth was grateful to have a piece of her fiancé again. Tying the reins to a fence post, she made her way into the graveyard.
She was almost to Jack's resting place when she realized she was not alone.
A tall stranger stood before Jack's grave, quiet and respectful. He held something in his hands. His lips moved as if he were speaking. Elizabeth watched as he bent and placed the item in his hands against the headstone. He rested his hand against the stone for several moments before he straightened and turned.
Their eyes collided. Both froze.
Elizabeth found herself looking into the bluest soul windows she had ever seen. His face was angular, his jaw strong. He had a thick crop of wavy brown hair, with one lock in particular intent on falling over his forehead.
The man's gaze was intense and searching. She almost got the sense he knew who she was.
Unable to stand the intensity any longer, Elizabeth broke the silence. "Hello."
The man nodded. "Good afternoon, Miss Thatcher."
She blinked. "Do we…know each other?" she asked. She glanced at Jack's grave. The item he had placed there caught her eye. The Three Musketeers. Jaw dropping, her eyes darted back up to meet his. "You're the third musketeer!"
He looked surprised, but he chuckled. "Indeed I am."
"You're Constable Grant."
His eyes dropped, but he nodded. "Please, call me Nathan. It's not Constable Grant any longer."
Elizabeth tilted her head, studying him. "You left the Mounties?"
He nodded once more. "I did."
He was certainly succinct with his words. Elizabeth stepped forward, feeling an unexplained, instant connection with this friend of Jack's. "What brings you to Hope Valley?"
Nathan looked out over the graveyard. "Jack suggested I put down roots here," he said, a small smile on his lips. "He thought it would be the perfect place for me to open my woodworking shop." He spread his arms. "So here I am."
Elizabeth smiled. "You've chosen a good place – " She hesitated briefly before using the name he'd given her permission to use. " – Nathan. We have a thriving lumber mill and plenty of forests and trees. You should have no problem getting your business started." She glanced up at him. Once again, she was struck by his height. "What kind of woodworking do you do?"
"Furniture, mainly," he replied. Elizabeth wasn't sure, but he seemed to relax slightly. "But I also tinker in carvings and decorative woodwork."
"I'd love to see your work at some point," Elizabeth said. Surprise lit Nathan's eyes. She immediately clamped her mouth shut. What in the world had possessed her to say that? She sounded like she was flirting with the man! It certainly hadn't been her intention. But there was something about Nathan Grant that made her feel relaxed and at ease. Perhaps it was his connection to Jack. Though come to think of it, she hadn't felt the same instant connection with Gabe Kinslow. Pushing the thought away, she focused on damage control.
"I'm sorry," she apologized. "I just find woodwork to be so interesting. It was not my intention to make you feel uncomfortable in any way."
Nathan smiled. "You didn't," he said. "I just find women generally aren't interested in my craft. That's what surprised me."
Elizabeth felt a bit of awkwardness creep into the moment. She shuffled on her feet, then looked at Jack's grave. She motioned toward it, giving Nathan a little smile. "If you don't mind…"
He nodded immediately, stepping to the side so she could pass. "Of course." He gave her a polite nod. "Good day, Miss Thatcher."
Belatedly it occurred to her to ask him to use her given name, like he had done for her. But by the time she turned around, his long legs were carrying him out of the graveyard and onto his horse. Shrugging, she turned and settled on the ground.
She could tell him later. For now, it was time to have a visit with Jack.
Elizabeth stopped at the mercantile on her way back home. She needed a few ingredients for dinner. Waving to Ned, she began searching the aisles for what she needed. As she turned a corner, she ran into Nathan Grant again. Literally.
He reached out to steady her as their bodies collided. "Miss Thatcher!" he exclaimed, his cheeks turning red. "Forgive me – I was not watching where I was going."
A matching blush filled her cheeks, but she waved off his apology. "It's fine, Nathan. These things happen."
He nodded, still looking flustered. Elizabeth chose that moment to offer an olive branch. "I meant to ask you to call me Elizabeth earlier," she said softly. "We're a rather informal town. If you're going to be staying, we should be on a first-name basis."
Interiorly, she cringed. Once again, without meaning to, it sounded like she was flirting.
Nathan didn't seem to notice. He simply smiled. "Thank you…Elizabeth."
The way he said her name caused a funny sensation to start in her stomach and spread through her body. Confused at her reaction, she turned her attention to something on the shelf nearest to her. She didn't dare analyze what it was. There was no way it could be what it felt like. No way at all. The very idea would be a betrayal to Jack.
Tears stung her eyes. She blinked them away furiously. Maybe she was just tired. Putting on a brave face, she looked up at Nathan again. "Where are you going to be living?"
"We got a rowhouse…" he began.
The tinkling of a bell interrupted his words. As he turned to see who entered the store, Elizabeth's mind stuck on a single word. We?
"Nathan! There you are."
A beautiful woman with dark blonde hair and striking green eyes walked into the mercantile, holding a little girl in her arms. The child giggled with delight when she saw Nathan, reaching out for him. Nathan walked to them without delay, lifting the child into his arms and making funny faces at her, faces that made her chortle with glee.
Elizabeth backed down the aisle, her eyes glued to the scene in front of her. The woman put her hand on Nathan's arm, smiling up at him as if he hung the moon. The three of them made a cozy image, and it was beyond clear who the two newcomers were to him.
Nathan was married with a daughter.
Elizabeth flushed. Of course he was married. He said he'd left the Mounties – he probably did so because he knew how hard Mountie life was on a family. He said he was looking to settle down, and Jack had suggested Hope Valley, a place where families thrived.
Kicking herself for feeling anything for the man, Elizabeth disappeared behind a shelf, effectively blocking the happy little family from view. She didn't want to analyze why she felt so disappointed.
Nathan grinned at Colleen while he repositioned Allie in his arms. "Yes, I'm sure they have pickled eggs," he said. His nose wrinkled. "Though why in the world would you want those? They're disgusting."
Colleen shrugged. "They sound good."
Remembering Elizabeth, Nathan took Colleen's arm. "There's someone I'd like you to meet," he said. He turned. "Elizabeth…" He blinked. She had vanished. He glanced around, wondering where she could have gone.
Colleen was watching him with an amused expression. "You want to introduce me to a shelf?" she asked, teasing him the way she had since they were children.
"No," Nathan replied absently. He found Elizabeth's disappearance left a hollow feeling inside. It had made him happy to see her again after their meeting in the graveyard. When he first saw her, he recognized her immediately. She had the same long hair and the same lovely eyes that she had in the black and white pictures Jack showed them. But now she had appeared before him in living color, and he found that she was more beautiful than he'd realized. Her chestnut hair curled gently down her back. Her eyes were the color of sapphires, and her form was strong and elegant at the same time.
Elizabeth Thatcher was an undeniably beautiful woman.
Blushing, Nathan looked down. He had no business thinking of her as beautiful, regardless of whether it was true. She was grieving Jack's loss just like he was. And he had no intention of getting involved with a woman again. The thought sobered him.
A groan from his sister caught his attention. One hand was splayed across her stomach, the other over her mouth. A glazed look filled her eyes. "I think I'm going to be sick," she gasped. She hurried to the door and ran through it. Concerned, Nathan followed quickly
He found Colleen on the side of the mercantile, emptying her stomach into the alley. Allie whimpered when she saw her mother. "Mama!" she cried.
Nathan rubbed his niece's back. "It's alright, Allie," he murmured. "We're going to take Mama to a doctor."
Colleen waved a hand, standing with gulping breaths. "I don't think that's necessary."
"It can't hurt," Nathan said. "Please, Colleen. The infirmary is right down the road."
His sister's tired eyes closed briefly. "Alright," she agreed. The fact that she didn't argue further alarmed Nathan even more. Sliding an arm around her, he carefully guided her down the street to the infirmary.