Chapter 8: Ghosts from the Past

"This is my home, here on the frontier. Never could I imagine myself elsewhere now that I have Luther and Trixie in my life. This will forever be my home."

As Elizabeth closed the leatherbound book and took a little bow, a wave of applause swept over the glimmering audience. This was not her first book reading and signing since she had arrived back in Hamilton. Those more partial to city life were anxious to hear about the charms of frontier living, and Elizabeth's book did not disappoint. What did disappoint many of the audience members was the author herself. She was refined, well dressed, and elegant, a very different figure from the one that she had painted in her novel. Many had been expecting a homespun schoolmarm, touched by the frontier charm. Many even observed that the authoress looked nothing like a schoolteacher at all, in her silken gown and fine jewelry. While the notable Elizabeth Thatcher's stories of Frontier life were vivid and captivating, somehow there seemed to be a disconnect from the work and the author herself. As she invited her suitor, Lucas Bouchard to the stage, the disappointment only grew. Here was the man whom she claimed had been the inspiration for the character of Luther Brant, the refined, yet rugged pioneer, whose past history as a Pinkerton had enabled him to save the town more than once. To the wealthy Hamilton audience, Lucas Bouchard just looked… like one of them. He was handsome to be sure, but nothing about him indicated that he was the man being described in Thatcher's novel.

Elizabeth herself began to sense a strange disconnect with her listeners as she circulated the room afterwards. While many of the other authors and sponsors praised her work, some of the readers themselves seemed confused. One little girl, about fourteen years of age, approached Elizabeth excitedly and held out her book to be signed. "Thank you so much Miss Thatcher!" she cried. "Is your daughter here tonight? Her character, Trixie is my favorite! I already feel like I know her! Can I please meet her?" Elizabeth was taken aback by the request and suddenly the reality that was not her novel seemed to come back to her. "I'm sorry dear" she said, a bit hesitantly. "I don't have a daughter." The words had the same affect that a curse would on the girl, and her eyes fell to the floor. "Oh…" she said quietly, taking the signed book without much enthusiasm. "Never mind." Elizabeth straightened up slowly and watched as the little girl walked away. Something about the exchange had a strange effect on Elizabeth. No, she didn't have a daughter. Even since she had left Hope Valley on her tour with Lucas and Little Jack, she hadn't given much thought to her inspiration for the character of Trixie. A sudden feeling of remorse came over her as she began to wonder; How tall was Allie now? Had she successfully completely the Advanced Mathematics course? Had she learned to ride comfortably on her own yet? Elizabeth felt a deep sense of guilt that she didn't know the answer to any of these questions. How had she let Allie drift out of her life like that? Perhaps the business of her tour and the buzz of city life had distracted her. But still…

Just then Lucas came to her side and laid a hand gently on her waist, kissing her cheek. "You were exceptional tonight" he breathed, his face glowing with an adoring smile. Elizabeth attempted to smile back, but the thought of Allie still haunted her, and she looked away. "Lucas…" she said softly. "Would you mind fetching me some champagne?" Lucas froze, a little hurt by her withdrawal. When he saw the pensive look on her face however, he smiled. "Of course," he said, disappearing into the crowds of people. Elizabeth eyed the faces around her, her readers, and her sponsors. They all loved her work. But in the middle of that vast, adoring crowd, Elizabeth suddenly felt a keen sense of loneliness and longing. It was the first time her mind had returned to Allie, and suddenly, for a moment, she wanted the time that she had spent with the little girl back, even for just a minute. Her thoughts were quickly adverted however, as several audience members approached her with copies of the novel for her to sign.

Elizabeth and Lucas did not stay long after that. Julie and William Thatcher, who had accompanied them both to spectate were tired, and hoped to enjoy a late super before turning in for the night. Grace had stayed behind to watch Little Jack and smiled happily upon their return. "That child is full of energy!" she exclaimed in response to Elizabeth's inquiry after him. "But I was able to put him down after 8:00 O'clock. He's such a sweet little boy." Elizabeth smiled faintly, while allowing Lucas to remove her jacket and hand it to the maid who stood by. For a split second, Elizabeth found herself wondering what it would be like to be the mother of both her son and Allie. She just couldn't seem to get the girl out of her head tonight. "Jack is an energetic boy" she said lamely. "Thank you so much for looking after him."

As the family gathered around the Thatcher table for dinner, Elizabeth noticed the Aunt Agatha's place was vacant beside hers. She had learned a long time ago through letter that her aunt had passed. Despite this, the image of her true absence left a strong impression on her. But even without her spirited aunt, the conversation carried very easily. Her father had been very impressed by Lucas and the two were sharing an animated conversation even now. Julie was absorbed in tending to Little Jack, who she went to check on shortly after finishing her meal. Grace Thatcher, who sat across from Elizabeth, smiled happily on her daughter, and held out her hand across the table. "I'm so glad to have you all here with us" she said. Elizabeth looked up with a start and stiffly placed her hand in her mother's. They both glanced at the two men conversing at the end of the table and smiled. Elizabeth looked around her and realized that, for the first time that everything was as it should be with her family. They were happy she was home. They had welcomed both her child and Lucas with open arms. Even her stern father was enjoying himself this evening. But as Elizabeth looked at her surroundings, she suddenly had a strange sense that something was missing. But what? Everything was as it should be. Everything was perfect.

Suddenly it dawned on her. In the past, the Hamilton lifestyle she had known had drawn her in and away from her life in Hope Valley. She probably would never have returned to Hope Valley in the first place, had it not been for the singular force that called her back; Jack. Jack had been the one to lead her back to her life in Hope Valley, as well as the only thing that stood between her and her old life in Hamilton. There may have been tension and resistance during Jack's visits with her family, but at least his presence and his love for her had always acted as a reminder to her of her place in Hope Valley. He was the beacon that had guided her through the storm and back to her home. Now, there was no beacon, no beckoning call to return to Hope Valley. She had grown fond of her life there in Hamilton once more and was now in a place where parting with it was not something she could do easily. And yet there was no one telling her that she should do otherwise. There was no Mountie to bring her home.

Aunt Agatha's expression for Jack, "your Mountie" came back to Elizabeth, and suddenly she desperately longing for some sort of reminder of the life she had left behind. Unconsciously, she fingered for her wedding ring, in the hopes that it would bring back memories of Jack, whom she suddenly wished was there with her to offer her some guidance. She felt an uncomfortable thump in her chest when her fingers could not find the gold band. Suddenly she remembered. The ring was not on her finger. It was in the little writing desk drawer in Hope Valley. There seemed to be nothing here in her family's home that reminded her of her home on the frontier. With a little sigh, she comforted herself with Aunt Agatha's words again. "Your Mountie." The image of a Mountie formed in Elizabeth's mind: the red serge, the campaign hat, the navy pants, and leather boots. Suddenly Elizabeth's face flushed. In her head she pictured a Mountie, but it wasn't Jack. It was Nathan. Tall, rugged, dark… and sad. She suddenly remembered the pain and the grief in his eyes when they had last spoke and found herself wondering about him. Was he alright? Was he happy? The fact that she didn't know the answer to either of these questions, just like the ones she had about Allie alarmed her. She was drifting away into the world of wealth and luxury. She was forgetting about those who, at one time had been closest to her. What had Nathan told Allie after her conversation with him in the Mountie office? Would Nathan ever have the strength or the trust to love again? Was he lonely, raising Allie all by himself? Elizbeth felt a hot tear rolling down her cheek, which she quickly brushed away so that no one would see. She realized with sudden and painful clarity that her happiness and security now had come at the expense of Nathan's and by association, Allie's. Just then, Julie's voice sounded from the stairs. "Elizabeth!" she called. "Jack is fussing again. I need your help." Elizabeth roused herself from her thoughts. "I'm on my way" she called softly.