Writing out the report was taking out a lot longer than usual. However, Carson had told him to try using his right arm for everyday activities. Nathan found that even the simple task of writing was proving difficult. Making the words legible was even harder. He was concentrating on that task when a plate with a sandwich and apple slices was placed in front of him. Nathan put the pen down and looked up to see Bill turning away from the desk.

"You did not take lunch," Bill said before Nathan could say anything. "We can hardly have the newly promoted Corporal fainting on his first day on the job but do not get use to food service. I am a sheriff, not a waiter."

Nathan smiled. He was liking the man's 'gruff love' as Jack had put it once. "Thank you, Bill," he told the man.

Bill waved a hand dismissively as he stood at the door. "I am going to go out on rounds. Perhaps you should go spend some time with Newton after you eat. The horse has seemed restless. I think spending some time with his 'partner' might help."

"All right," Nathan said. Bill had been taking care of Newton since his arrival in town, even taking the horse out on short rides, though Nathan had gone to visit his faithful horse.

"I know Carson told you no riding yet, so don't try it," Bill added before stepping out the door.

Nathan chuckled at the departing instruction. Though he would admit the thought had crossed his mind earlier this morning to get in the saddle despite Carson's orders, after finding out how much harder, smaller tasks were, Nathan saw the wisdom in the doctor's instructions.

Nathan simply needed to practice patience. It was something that he was usually good at, but when it came to his own limitations, Nathan found there was a difference. His mother had always told him he needed to learn to have as much patience with himself as he did with others.

Nathan eyed the sling. Carson had said to listen to his body. Right now, his shoulder was screaming at him that it had enough. Reaching for the sling, Nathan slipped it back on, letting his right arm rest in its confines. Immediately he could tell a difference in the pain. Picking up the sandwich Bill had brought him, Nathan took a bite. The hunger he had not realized was there came to the forefront. It probably was a good thing that Bill had brought the food to him.

When finished with the meal, washing it down with some water, Nathan picked the plate up. Placing it in his right hand, still nestled in the sling, he headed for the door, grabbing his hat from the hook as he passed by.

At the café, Nathan returned to plate to Abigail, who offered him some motherly advice about not missing meals. Nathan promised her he would try to remember to eat in the future. He then walked over to the table in the parlor area of the café that Allie sat at. Though a math assignment of some simple word problems that Ms. Blakely had prepared for her sat on the table his daughter was concentrating on another piece of papers with a drawing of his mother's house on it.

"That does not look like math," Nathan said softly.

His niece shrugged her shoulders in response. Allie made no move to stop her art work to look at the math assignment. He did not want to cause a scene in a public place but he also did not want to let it go. Squatting down beside Allie's chair, Nathan slid the paper with the word problems on it a little closer to his niece.

"If you do not want to solve the problems then perhaps you just start with illustrating the word problems," Nathan suggested.

Allie looked at him. He saw only sadness in her eyes, not defiance. That at least gave him hope. He had gotten some defiant looks from her. Looking back at the table, Allie placed her drawing aside and picked up a blank piece of paper before looking toward the one with the word problems on it. As the word problem was about apples, Nathan was not surprised to see his niece start drawing a basket.

Kissing the top of her head, Nathan turned and walked over to Abigail. "Is she distracting you from your work?" he asked softly.

Abigail reached out and placed a hand on his left arm. "I am fine with watching her," she assured him."And what you just did, drawing attention to her schoolwork without demanding she do it," Abigail said, nodding to the table. "That will work better in the long run then punishing her or yelling."

Nathan looked away. "I may have already tried the yelling method," he admitted quietly. "She tends to go to her room and slam the door."

"Peter did that to me as well," Abigail admitted. "Parenting is a lot of trial and error. You are not alone in that department."

Nathan nodded. "I am going to go for a walk with Newton. I cannot ride him yet but Bill mentioned he was getting restless."

Abigail gave him a knowing look. "That horse isn't the only one. Do not think we miss our local Mountie pacing the roads looking like this little town his penning him in."

Nathan felt a bit sheepish. "It is not a reflection on any of you. I am just use to riding and covering a lot of ground in one day."

"I understand," Abigail assured him. "So does everyone else. You will be riding soon enough."

Nathan nodded, thanking Abigail again for keeping an eye on Allie. Walking back to his niece, he kissed her head again. "I will see you at three."

"All right Uncle Nathan," Allie replied, not looking up from her drawing. Glancing at it, Nathan saw that she had solved the first word problems using her pictures. He wasn't sure a teacher would find it an acceptable answer to the word problem but he was satisfied with it.

The children had been thrilled to have Elizabeth back in the classroom. Elizabeth had to admit, she was glad to be back though more than once she had to push the image of Corporal Grant walking into the building out of her thoughts. It was exhausting in itself but she hoped the children were not aware of her being distracted. At any rate, the history and reading lessons gave her something to focus on rather than her memories or how much she missed Jack.

Elizabeth was both surprised and relieved that the children did not bring the topic of Mountie Jack up. She knew the children had liked Jack very much. They had often inquired if she had heard from Mountie Jack while he was in the Northern Territories. She had even read bits of Jack's letters to them.

However, though the children expressed joy at seeing her and presented her with cards, Mountie Jack was not mentioned. At the end of the day, all of the girls and the younger boys all gave her a hug before leaving the schoolhouse. She did notice that Cody lingered by the door as everyone else left. It wasn't until he was the last chid in the room that he approached her at the front of the classroom.

"I am happy you are back, Mrs. Thornton," Cody told her, giving her a very quick hug before taking a step back. "Things felt more normal this afternoon," the boy admitted.

"Thank you, Cody," Elizabeth told him, flattered by the hug even if Cody had not wanted his classmates to see the gesture.

As the boy turned to leave, Elizabeth watched him. As she watched him walk out the door though, the memory of a Mountie walking through the door came back to her.

Jack is gone.

Those three words came to her a lot these days, as if she could forget. Feeling her knees grow weak, Elizabeth moved to the front bench seat and sat down. Even as she did so, she remembered feeling Nathan's arm solidly around her that day. He had been the only thing that had kept her from sinking to a heap on the ground that day. He was not here today to keep her on her feet.

Neither was Allie.

It was the first time that Elizabeth had realized that Allie Grant was not in school. Looking for Florence, she found the woman standing right beside her.

"Are you all right, Elizabeth?" Florence asked sympathetically.

"Yes," Elizabeth managed, her voice surprisingly steady. As she still felt a little weak, she did not attempt to stand quite yet. "Being back in the schoolhouse has brought back some memories of receiving the news of Jack's death though," she admitted, knowing that Florence was one of many in this little town who could empathize with her when it came to losing a husband.

Florence nodded."I understand. Even though the mine is closed, if I hear the train whistle I am reminded of the day of the accident."

Elizabeth's breath caught. So use to hearing train whistles back in Hamilton, she barely registered the noise when she was close enough to the station to hear the whistles these days. She had not even made the connection of them to the one the mine had used, despite having heard the mine whistle quite a few times during those days in Coal Valley.

"I'm sorry," Elizabeth said. "I never even realized."

Florence gave her a sad smile as she sat down next to Elizabeth. "No reason that you should have," the woman assured her, patting her arm. I am not the only widow who has made the connection, but many of the women in town do not. Now, are you all right. You sat down awfully fast."

It was Elizabeth's turn to smile. "I am fine. My knees just got weak just like the day when Corporal Grant brought me the news of Jack's death. Teaching is going to be difficult if I am always fighting those memories."

"You won't be," Florence told her confidently, placing a hand on Elizabeth's arm. "Those memories will come to you less often as time goes by. That is not to say they will stop completely. Even now, the memory of losing Paul will come to me all of a sudden. I could not even tell you what brings it on sometimes. However, it does get easier."

"I have to admit, there has been times that I have simply wanted to curl up in a ball and not face life anymore," Elizabeth said. "Then I remember the determination that you and the other mothers had with keeping a school not controlled by the mining company going when I first arrive and I tell myself that if you all continued on with life, then so can I."

"Jack would want you to go on, Elizabeth," Florence said softly. "Always remember that."

Elizabeth nodded, knowing her friend's words were true. She had words in black ink and Jack's handwriting as proof of that truth.

"I did not see Corporal Grant's nice in class today," Elizabeth ventured, remembering what she had wanted to ask Florence.

"He has not enrolled her officially yet," Florence replied. "Apparently Allie's school attendance diminished during her mother's illness and when she went back after Christmas, she had struggled with concentrating on her school work. Corporal Grant says sometimes she will put in a half effort with schoolwork and other times she just seems distant. Her last teacher reported her breaking down in tears when she tried to get her to do the work and had suggested that Allie was not emotionally ready to be back in the classroom."

"So they just wanted to give up on her."

"Apparently, Corporal Grant was told by the teacher that she didn't have time to deal with Allie's emotional issues."

"The poor child," Elizabeth said sympathetically.

"As Allie has gone through more changes with the move here, Corporal Grant said that he wanted to wait to enroll Allie until he knows there will not be a teacher change on her and only with the teacher's blessing. I assured him you would be more than happy to have her in class when you resumed teaching full time."

"I will. Thank you, for reassuring him for me," Elizabeth replied, her friend's words doing wonders for boosting her confidence that she would one day be able to resume full responsibility for her classroom. At least until the fall when she would need to take a break for the baby, but she would have all summer to figure out who would cover for her then.

Florence paused as she motioned to the desk. "I have been preparing some lessons for Corporal Grant to have Allie work on at home. You teaching this afternoon gave me some time to prepare a few more. It seemed a good way to ease the girl back into school and Corporal Grant was agreeable to it."

Elizabeth nodded. From the information she had, it seemed as though Allie was behind in her schooling even without the additional time away from school. Elizabeth knew she needed to get back into the classroom and start working with the girl. Though if today was any indication, she was not ready for a full day of teaching.

"That was a good idea, Florence," Elizabeth said, her friend beaming from the compliment. "I suppose we should do preparation for tomorrow."

Florence waved her hand. "I can handle that. Go home, Elizabeth. You look exhausted."

Elizabeth felt like she should put up some protest but Florence was right. She was exhausted. Stopping by the cemetery to talk to Jack and going home for a nap sounded about like all she could muster the energy for. Rosemary and Lee had told her to come eat with them whenever she wanted. Today seemed like a good time to take them up on the offer.

"I am tired," Elizabeth admitted. "I am sure tomorrow will be easier."

Florence patted her arm before standing up. "You take as long as you need easing back into teaching Elizabeth," the woman assured her. "You have been a blessing to all of us mothers these last few years. We are here for you now."

"Thank you, Florence," Elizabeth replied, getting to her feet.

Leaving the schoolhouse, Elizabeth started out for the cemetery. Tired though she may be, she had a desire to tell Jack about her first day back in the classroom. It felt like at least a start to his wish for her to continue with her life and be happy.

As the sound of the slamming door echoed upstairs, Nathan closed his eyes. He was not even sure what he had said to upset his niece this time. He had asked about her day to which he got the answer "it was fine." Figuring that he was not going to get much talking from Allie, he had started talking about his day. She had not protested but had bolted for the stairs as soon as they stepped into the house.

"Lord, give me the strength and guidance to be a comfort to Allie in this time," Nathan whispered, eyes still closed.

After standing still for a few minutes, Nathan opened his eyes. Thinking that perhaps Allie would need a bit of time to herself, he headed for the kitchen. He got the fire going in the stove to warm up the oven and then moved to the icebox. Taking out the small roast, Nathan placed it in a roasting pan. He then added onions, potatoes and carrots and a few spices to it. Making up a gravy to smother it in, he poured the gravy over the meat and vegetables and placed the whole thing in the oven to cook.

Deciding that it was time to check on his niece, Nathan headed upstairs. Reaching her room, Nathan could hear muffled sobbing. The sound pierced his heart. Knocking on the door, but not waiting for an anser, Nathan stepped into the room.

Allie was lying on her bed, face buried in her pillow. Her shoulders moved from the crying.

Walking over to the bed, Nathan sat down on the edge and reached out a hand to rest on the girl's back.

"Did something happen to upset you today, Allie?" Nathan asked. "Did I say something that upset you?"

"Daddy promised to teach me to ride a horse when he came home from the Northern Territories," Allie said, the words coming out staccato with her quick breathing from crying and still muffled by the pillow. "Why was Daddy the one to die up North? If it had been you then Daddy could be teaching me to ride."

Nathan took in a sharp breath, telling himself not to take the words personally. He doubted his niece really wanted him dead. The grieving girl simply wanted her mother and father in her world. He could understand that.

Besides, he had asked himself that same question on more than one occasion. Why Dylan? Why Jack? Why not him? His brother-in-law had a wife and child to come home to. Jack had left behind a widow. Yes, his mother, sister and other family and friends would have mourned him had he died but it somehow did not seem quite the same.

"I do not know why your parents were taken from you, Allie," Nathan told her, one hand stroking her back in what he hoped was a soothing manner. "Things like that are hard for even adults to comprehend at times. You are not alone though. You still have me."

"I'd rather have Mommy and Daddy."

"I know you would," Nathan replied. "Sometimes life just is not fair. I am sorry you had to learn that so young but it is a lesson we all learn eventually."

There was no further reply, just the muffled sounds of crying. Moving to sit against the head board, Nathan reached down and gathered the sobbing girl into her arms. Despite her words, Allie did not protest the gesture, instead pressing up against her uncle and hiding her face against his red serge.

Nathan simply held her, offering no further words. The girl was grieving the loss of her parents despite the time that had past. With Colleen's illness, Nathan doubted Allie had properly processed her father's death before her mother got ill. The uncertainty and the changes of the past year had not been conducive to allowing Allie time to heal and grieve. Nathan didn't feel as if he had been given time to process things. He had gone back north following Dylan's death. Colleen's illness had happened while he had been fighting up North. Being home for his sister's death had given him some time to process losing Colleen but then he had gone back north, so that Jack could go home for Christmas. He had been able to push his personal losses aside to focus on his duty. Then Jack had been killed. Yes, his breakdown at Jack's funeral had been brought on by memories of his friend's death but Nathan knew there was so much more in play that day then just grief for Jack. His grief for his brother-in-law and sister coupled by his insecurities about now raising Allie had all hit him that day. Jack was not the only one he had talked to at his friend's grave site.

Closing his eyes, Nathan planned on simply holding Allie until the tears were spent but sleep overcame him. The next thing he was aware of was Allie's panicked voice.

"Uncle Nathan, I smell smoke."

Nathan was immediately awake. He'd had the roast in the oven. Had he been asleep long enough for it to burn?

Not bothering checking the time, Nathan slipped out from under Allie and headed toward the bedroom door. Smoke was creeping into the upstairs. If it was not the roast then something else was on fire. Moving to his niece's dresser, he removed two of her handkerchiefs and handed her one.

"Hold this over your nose and mouth with one hand and give me your other hand," Nathan instructed.

With eyes big with fear, Allie silent obeyed. Nathan had slipped his arm out of the sling and left the contraption dangling. Gripping Allie's hand with his left, Nathan held the other handkerchief over his nose and mouth with his right had as he made his way to the staircase. The smoke was thicker downstairs, obscuring his view. Not letting go of Allie's hand, Nathan headed for the front door. Getting Allie outside was his first priority.

Reaching the front door, Nathan opened it wide.

"Go outside and wait for me, Allie," Nathan instructed, smoke coming out the door around him.

Instead of going outside, Allie let go of his hand and put her arms around his waist. "I cannot lose you too!" the girl sobbed.

"You will not lose me," Nathan told her, trying to pry her hands free of his waist. "I just need to turn off the stove and I will be right behind you," he assured her wishing he could stay with her but knowing the source of the smoke needed to be dealt with. Having gotten free of her hands, he pushed her a little toward the door. "Go outside," he told her, using the same tone he had when giving orders up north.

He heard Allie's sobs as she went outside. Though his niece's fright tugged at his heart, he had to turn off the stove and get the roast out. Not bothering retrieving the handkerchief he had dropped trying to get Allie out the door, Nathan headed for the kitchen. Bumping into several pieces of furniture, Nathan finally made it to his destination. He was coughing now as he found pot holders and opened the oven door. More smoke billowed out. Nathan reached for the roasting pan as a voice shouted from the doorway.

"Is there a fire?"

"No," Nathan replied, before a coughing fit overtook him. He moved over to the sink and dropped the roasting pan in it as he heard the voice call out "there is no fire." Nathan braced his hands on the counter as a coughing fit came over him.

Then he felt hands on his arm. "Let's get you outside," the voice of Bruce Weiss said in his ear.

"The stove needs to be turned off," Nathan said between coughs.

"I got it," Cameron Martin, the neighbor on the other side from the Weiss replied.

Nathan let himself be led from the house at that point, his lungs protesting the smoke and his eyes watering. Stepping outside, Nathan gulped in the fresh air. He managed a few more steps before he sank to his knees.

"Someone went for Carson already," a voice said nearby.

"Good," Bruce replied from right beside him.

Nathan opened his mouth to protest needing the doctor but started coughing again instead. He felt a blanket get settled across his shoulders.

"Try taking deep breaths, Nathan," Bruce instructed calmly. "Get fresh air into your lungs."

Nathan nodded even as his niece came into his thoughts. He looked up, ready to search her out only to find her rushing toward him. Still on his knees, Nathan opened his arms to her.

"I'm sorry," Allie sobbed as she hugged him tightly making it harder to breathe. "It is my fault!"

"This was just an accident, Allie," Nathan told her between coughs. "It is no one's fault."

"Allie, perhaps we should give your Uncle some space," Ellen Wiese was saying.

"Let her be," Nathan rasped, though he knew his new neighbor meant well.

Sitting on the ground, Nathan settled Allie in his lap and held her close despite the coughing fits. Right then, he knew the only thing his niece needed was the comfort of his arms.