Nathan held the door to the jail open for Elizabeth, then followed her inside. He shut the door behind them. Hanging his hat on its hook, he motioned for her to have a seat before sitting in his own chair behind his desk.

He studied the desk for a long moment, knowing he should meet Elizabeth's gaze but almost afraid to do so. He had seen the devastation in her eyes when she turned from that wagon. She'd thought it was him in there. She had thought he was dead.

The horror on her face had smote his heart. He'd watched as her eyes met his, watched as she realized that he wasn't the one in the wagon, that he was alive. What he hadn't expected was for her to run to him and embrace him like that. In front of the entire town. His already reeling emotions had kicked into overdrive in that moment.

He had wondered many times what it would feel like to hold Elizabeth in his arms. She had owned his heart for months, and though he thought he had little chance of winning hers, he had held on to hope. All the time she spent with Lucas had burned a hole in his heart, but after fearing he could have lost her in that windstorm, he knew he couldn't give up. He would fight for her because she mattered to him.

That embrace had rocked him to the core. If he hadn't been so shaken over the death of a fellow Mountie and his own near encounter with the bullet, he would have been elated that he was holding Elizabeth in his arms and that she clearly had some kind of feelings for him.

But now he wondered if he could ask her to take a chance on him. The fear and sadness in her eyes had been so real when she turned from the wagon. She had lived her worst fears all over again in an instant. He hadn't died, but what if that bullet had hit him? If not this time, there was nothing to guarantee it wouldn't happen next time. Even if Elizabeth ran to him out of sheer relief as a friend, that still meant he couldn't ask anything more of her. How much more devastated would she have been if she loved him?

He finally raised his eyes to meet hers. She was watching him with a mixture of concern and something else he couldn't place. Her eyes were soft as she finally spoke. "What happened out there, Nathan?"

The scene flashed in his mind once more. Jenny lowered her rifle, resignation in her eyes. Nathan reached out for the gun, the barrel inches from his hand, relieved that she had listened to reason. Then he heard Bill shout "No, don't!" while Elias shouted "Jenny, watch out!"

Nathan didn't even have time to look back to see what was going on. Jenny lifted the rifle again with fear flashing across her face as she looked past Nathan. He lunged for the gun, his hand closing around the barrel as it fired.

Jenny looked stunned. She dropped the gun without a fight, her hands going over her face. Nathan took her by the arm and started to bring her to the prisoner transport wagon. The blood drained from his face as he took in the scene in front of him.

Constable Jamison was slumped over and unmoving. Bill leapt off his horse and shouted to Nathan, "Help me!"

Nathan sprang into action, handing Jenny over to Constable Travers and running to help Bill. They pulled Jamison from the seat and carried him to the back of the wagon. Travers had handcuffed Jenny and taken Elias from the back. "I'll keep an eye on these two," he said as they placed Jamison in the back of the wagon. "Hurry!"

Bill jumped into the driver's seat and flicked the reins hard. "Yah!" The wagon took off at lightning speed. Nathan swung himself onto Newton and galloped after Bill, his heart churning in his chest.

He had almost been shot. If he hadn't lunged for that rifle when it went off, he might be the one in the back of that wagon racing for Hope Valley.

If he hadn't lunged for that rifle, Constable Jamison wouldn't be dying or dead. He'd seen the gunshot wound. Jamison wasn't going to make it.

That cold reality chewed him from the inside out. It was all he could think about on the ride back to Hope Valley. A man was dead because of Nathan's actions. A young man at that, a rookie. During their brief chat on the way out of town, Jamison had revealed he'd just graduated from the academy six months ago. He told Nathan he was excited to help make the world a better place by being a Mountie.

Now he was gone.

"Nathan?" Elizabeth's gentle voice broke into his thoughts.

He could feel tears burning his eyes again, and he tried desperately to blink them away. He looked at Elizabeth for a few moments, his throat clenching too much for the words to come through. Elizabeth gave him time, waiting patiently while he tried to collect himself. He appreciated her thoughtfulness in that moment more than she knew.

Finally, he found his voice. "It's my fault, Elizabeth."

She frowned. "What's your fault?"

"If I hadn't touched that gun…" His voice trailed off.

Understanding lit Elizabeth's eyes. "You think it's your fault that Mountie died?"

Nathan nodded, unable to look at her. He heard her stand, and within seconds she was kneeling next to him, a hand on his arm. "Nathan, look at me."

He lifted his eyes to hers, seeing only compassion and kindness in them.

"This was not your fault."

He started to protest, but Elizabeth held up a hand. "Nathan, it was not your fault. Were you the one holding the gun? Were you the one who pulled the trigger? No, you weren't. This is on the bad guys, not on you."

"And it's on Jamison himself," Bill said, coming through the door.

Nathan and Elizabeth both started. Neither of them had heard the door open. Bill stopped in front of the desk, smiling slightly as he took in Elizabeth next to Nathan, her hand on his arm. "Jamison never should have pulled that gun out. It was folly, and it cost him his life."

"What?" Nathan said, shocked. "What gun?"

"He pulled a reserve gun from under the wagon seat and cocked it. He was aiming for Jenny. Her shot was in reaction to that." He shook his head. "It was a rookie mistake." Leveling a look at Nathan, Bill lifted his brow. "You had that situation under control, Nathan. You had convinced Jenny to give you her rifle and she was going to give herself up. Jamison's actions put us all at risk."

Nathan took in that information. It brought a measure of relief, but only a small one. "That still doesn't change the fact that the bullet would have found a different trajectory if I hadn't touched the gun."

"Maybe," Bill said, folding his arms in front of him. "Maybe not. You don't know that. Anything could have happened in 'what if' scenarios. That bullet could have hit you or me or Jamison or it might not have hit any of us. We'll never know. But this I do know." He placed both hands on the desk and leaned forward, staring right at Nathan. "You are not responsible for what happened. Understood?"

Nathan felt a half-smile form on his face. "You're a good friend, Bill."

Bill smirked, standing up straight again. "And an honest one." He nodded. "I didn't mean to interrupt, but I wanted to see that you're alright. I'll leave you two to talk now." With that, he walked out the door, disappearing as quickly as he'd appeared.

Elizabeth's hand hadn't left his arm. She turned her blue gaze back on him. "Are you ready to talk now?"

He nodded slowly, letting himself get lost in her eyes briefly. They did need to talk. But he had a feeling she wasn't going to like what he had to say.