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Chapter 9

"Oh my goodness, Betsy, you can't possibly carry any more flowers!" Rosemary laughed, as she shifted the bundle of blooms in her own arms on their walk after lunch.

"But I promised I'd bring some to Mrs. Thornton." Betsy continued through the field, plucking stems with every step.

"I doubt Elizabeth has enough vases to hold the ones you already have."

"Just a few more. Please? I want to put some purple flowers near my bed."

Rosemary nodded, safeguarding her assortment that was — not surprisingly — mostly purple.

"Bring me what you have so you can keep picking without dropping any."

"Thank you, Mrs. Coulter."

"You're welcome, dear. In fact, I have an idea."

Rosemary knelt and set down her bulky bouquet — carefully, so the flowers wouldn't scatter — and pulled a ribbon from each of her sleeves, which had served to keep them rolled up on that warm day.

"We can tie them up with these, and we won't lose a single leaf or petal."

Betsy beamed at Rosemary's inventiveness and watched as her new friend expertly bound the stems and finished with a picture-perfect bow, reserving the second ribbon for the bouquet still in progress.

"How do they look, now?" Rosemary asked, turning the arrangement this way and that.

"They're beautiful, Mrs. Coulter. Just like you."

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"She's a sweet child," Lee said. "And you're clearly devoted to her."

"She's the apple of my eye." Nathan sighed. "I'm sure you figured out that her parents are gone."

"That's tough for someone so young. Have they been gone long?"

"Less than a month."

"Wow — I'm so sorry," Lee sympathized. "Now I understand why you're living at the saloon and she's staying with Elizabeth. You'd planned to come solo."

Nathan nodded. "Emotionally, I'm ready, willing and able to raise her. But if Mrs. Thornton hadn't stepped in, well, I certainly didn't have any practical matters settled."

"Maybe I can do something about that."

"Do you know of a house we could move in to?"

"Sorry, no."

"I see."

"Which is why I'm proposing to build one," Lee announced.

"You can do that?" Nathan gave him an incredulous look.

"Of course I can. I own the lumber mill. Although, the idea does present a few complications."

"Of course," Nathan said. "It's far too much to expect."

"Oh, building a house isn't the problem," Lee assured. "It's that my wife has become quite smitten with Miss Betsy. They only met yesterday, but I can see she's going to miss having her right next door."

"Betsy has a way of working her way into your heart." Nathan smiled. "I was smitten the day she was born."

Lee took a small notepad and a pencil from his pocket and began sketching.

"I'm thinking three bedrooms."

"That's more than we would require."

"Oh, you'll soon learn I never think small," Lee boasted. "That's why our own house hasn't been built yet. I have to keep redesigning it, because the floor plan expands by the week. You'd think that would be Rosemary's doing, but no. I'm equally guilty of coming up with new ideas."

"It sounds like you hope to create something very special."

"We share a dream, and the house may help us fulfill it. I really can't say more than that."

"I pray your dreams come true," Nathan said sincerely. "You're certainly making mine a reality. I can't thank you enough."

"It's the least I can do for our new Mountie — and our new friends. Speaking of friends." He looked beyond Nathan to the flower-laden females happily approaching. "Did you ladies pick every last flower in the Western Provinces?"

"No, but not for lack of trying. Isn't that right, Betsy?"

"We could come every day and never pick them all! Mrs. Thornton will love them." Betsy looked at her uncle with a twinkle in her eye.

"She'll be happy that you thought of her," he corrected, with a look that forbade the folly of matchmaking.

"You know, the flowers will never survive the trip back to town in your saddlebags," Rosemary reasoned. "They should ride in the car with us."

Betsy held her bunch tightly, clearly conflicted between caring for them personally and wanting them to arrive intact.

"Perhaps you'd like to ride with us, too — you know, to keep them safe?" Rosemary suggested.

"May I, Uncle Nathan? Please?"

"I don't see why not. It's been a long day. The sooner you return, the better able you'll be to rest and get ready for your first day of school tomorrow."

"Why don't you get started on your way back and let us pick up the blankets and dishes, Nathan?" Rosemary offered. "We'll still make it to town before you."

"Can we honk the horn?" Betsy begged.

"Of course," Lee said. "But not until we're well past Buckshot's keen ears."

"Thank you both." After a goodbye hug to Betsy, Nathan mounted his horse and tipped his hat. "This has been the most enjoyable day we've had in weeks. There's just something about …" He looked around the valley, realizing he had no words to describe its depth of beauty, and the solace he felt from being immersed in it.

"Enjoy your ride," Lee said. "I'm serious. Take your time and really enjoy it. We'll see Betsy safely to Elizabeth's."

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"Did you have a good nap, sweetheart?" Elizabeth asked her son, who was kicking in his crib and clearly ready to rise and shine. "Don't tell anyone, but so did I."

She brought him downstairs and fed him, reveling in his little grins as he nursed.

"You are the most precious boy in the whole world," she whispered. "So, how shall we spend the rest of our day?"

Tomorrow's lessons were already prepared, and several textbook passages were bookmarked in anticipation of helping her young boarder get ready for her first day in the Hope Valley schoolhouse.

"I hope Betsy and her uncle are enjoying themselves. They need this time of refreshing. There's nothing like being outdoors and appreciating God's wonderful creation to renew one's hope for the future after a terrible …"

She looked out the window and felt the call of creation, herself.

"Let's take a walk," she announced.

With Jack in his carriage and serviceable ankle boots on her feet, she told herself it was only an aimless stroll and that they had no destination in mind. But her eyes were focused on one structure in particular — the stable.

She greeted the stable boys and requested a hand saddling Sergeant and helping with Jack. Once she was seated in the saddle, she reached down for her son, who was wide-eyed as he took in the huge, neighing beasts in their straw-filled stalls.

It was no accident that Elizabeth had wrapped him in a shawl-like blanket that could double as a sling. Before setting off, she wound the cloth around him, looping it securely under his arms, between his legs and around her waist as he perched in front of her.

Even though she couldn't see his face beneath his little sunhat, she could tell from the way he kicked and waved that he was grinning from ear to ear and excited about their adventure.

Just as the stable had been her subconscious destination, so, too, was the sacred location a short distance from town — the cemetery.

Pretending she didn't need to visit Jack's final resting place made it easier to go and pay her respects to him. The last thing she wanted was weep and moan and cause her son to grow up thinking his father's grave was a place of torment and despair.

"At least we're not completely missing out on the wildflowers today," she said, maintaining a positive attitude as Sergeant ambled along. "Aren't they beautiful? And the butterflies, and the birds. Everything is reborn in the spring. Except you, of course. You arrived on Christmas Day, my precious boy — our precious boy."

Minutes before she was near enough to stop and dismount, her eyes were fixed on her husband's modest headstone, a rock-solid reminder of everything they'd lost.

She forced a smile before halting the horse and climbing from the saddle, with her son still securely fastened to her chest.

"Let's pick some flowers for Daddy," she whispered.

She'd thought about loosening little Jack's wrap, but reasoned that she'd only have to tie it again. One good thing, keeping the child contained left both of her hands free to gather the flowers and hold them out of his eager reach.

"I know why you want them, little stinker." She chuckled. "You like to put everything in your mouth!"

She sat down near Jack's grave marker — soothed by the warm breeze that waved through the wildflowers and buoyed the butterflies — and talked about the events of recent days.

"Of course, if Betsy's correct — and I hope she's correct — then you already know, because God told you." She sighed. "It gives me comfort to think so."

After a few minutes, little Jack's squirming became too much. Her options were to let him loose from the binds or get back on Sergeant and head home. She chose the latter.

Before climbing into the saddle, she picked a few brightly colored flowers and secured them under the saddle horn as a memento of their visit. She visualized the big book in which she was in the habit of pressing flowers, noting the dates and occasions when they were added.

"It's a special book," she told her son. "And the first flowers in it were from your daddy."

With a gentle, rolling gait, Sergeant strode back to town. He knew the way, so Elizabeth had no need for the reins. She supported her son as he reclined back against her chest, and the movement soon lulled him to sleep. With her hand, she shielded his eyes from the afternoon sun.

They were almost abreast of Nathan and Buckshot when she looked up with a start. He and his horse had stopped short, and his eyes were wide with alarm.

He knows where we've been, because he's on his way there himself, she thought.

"Did you have a good day, constable?" she asked politely, if not warmly, noting the flowers clasped in his hand.

"Yes. We met up with the Coulters and had a wonderful time with them. Betsy was in her element. She rode back with them. Protecting the flowers was her primary concern."

He raised his own handful of flowers since he could hardly ignore them.

"It's a good day for picking," she said, gazing at the fields of abundance surrounding them.

"They reminded Betsy of her mother and father. Especially the purple ones." Again, he gestured with the small bouquet.

"I'll have to remember they're her favorites," Elizabeth said, making small talk. "Well, it seems our little outing has exhausted my son. I'll check in with Lee and Rosemary, and see if Betsy's ready to go over our lessons for tomorrow."

"I'll stop by in a little while, if you don't mind. I promise I won't stay long. I have a feeling Betsy may be even more exhausted than young Jack after her adventures, and will want to go to bed early."

"Come any time. It's Betsy's home, too. Our door is always open. I'm planning a simple supper this evening, but you're welcome to join us."

"Thank you. I'd like that. And there's something I need to discuss with you." He frowned guiltily.

It was her turn to look alarmed.

"It's not what you think," he said quickly.

"You don't know what I'm thinking," she challenged.

"It's not about …" He turned his eyes down the road she'd traveled.

She exhaled. "Thank you. I'm not ready for that."

"I'll see you soon." He tipped his hat.

"Good day," she replied, and urged Sergeant onward.

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See Chapter 10

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Thank you to all who have offered enthusiastic reviews of my story!

My heart goes out to those who prefer to read stories about Elizabeth and Jack.

I know that his loss will forever be felt.

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If you enjoyed this story, please check out my fan fiction about "Chesapeake Shores."

Search fanfiction . net for writer "Annette Zoaps."

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