Chapter 16

Charles Kensington looked gently at Elizabeth, the sadness on his face hidden in the darkness as the light from the moon behind him highlighted her as she drew near. She still carried herself with grace he thought, yet there was something different that could be seen when you looked at her eyes. How many times had he wished he could take her in his arms and make the pain go away.

There had been many moments of reflection for him over the past four years, thinking how different her life and his might have been if only she had accepted his first proposal. He loved her then and still loved her now, even though the moments of lucidity, the times when he saw a flash of the beautiful young woman she had once been, were becoming less and less.

Together they could have done anything. But she had chosen the Mountie, a good man he had to admit, and at that time he wished for nothing but her happiness. Then tragedy struck and so much changed.

He had tried so hard to save her. Another proposal when she brought the odious Bouchard to meet her family was barely even acknowledged, seemingly so hellbent was she on treading the ruinous path that she had chosen. How his wonderful Elizabeth could even consider being with such a man he could not understand.

He vowed then that he would always be there for her and he had kept his word, although the situation changed again with her breakdown, the loss of another Mountie her undoing.

He had looked into Nathan Grant and what he found was commendable, an impeccable man as Elizabeth told him, and one who had been wise to escape. Now the Mountie was

back, along with his family, and it seemed Elizabeth was more troubled than ever.

It had therefore come as no surprise to him to receive the call from Abigail Gowan regarding the developments in Hope Valley and suggesting that his presence may be needed. How he could help this woman he had adored all his life he didn't know but he would do everything he could.

He held his hand out to take hers, feeling the same shock pass through him that he experienced whenever he touched her. "Hello Elizabeth. What are you doing walking around here so late at night? This is not a safe place for anyone, never mind a woman alone!"

"I am fine, Charles, you really do not need to worry. The people here are my friends and would never hurt me." She waved her hand back towards The Tipperary. Despite her exclamation he could hear a shrillness in her voice, a sense of turmoil that she was trying to quash. Looking down he studied her face more closely, her eyes glowing brightly in the same way he had seen in many of the patients at the hospital where he helped his mother deliver donations. What had she been taking, he wondered?

Guiding her back across the open ground and around the building to a seat at the end of the boardwalk, he gently sat her down. "Why don't you tell me what is happening that has you so worked up? Let me help you," he spoke quietly, never releasing the hold he had of her hand.

"Oh Charles, I don't know! I am so confused." She paused for a moment before more words came tumbling out. "Nathan is back and there is a woman who seems to have a hold on him, like Rosemary had with Jack. I am so worried that she will do something to stop us from being together. Then there is Little Jack. He is unhappy with those people, I can see it every time I visit. I promised him that as soon as I got over this terrible sickness he could come home, that it was only my concern for him that made me send him away. Now that I am well again I need to go and get him."

She struggled to get to her feet, but Charles' hand still restrained her enough to keep her seated on the bench. "Just hold on a minute, Elizabeth. Who are you talking about? Do you mean Nathan Grant's wife? Have you heard something that makes you think he is in danger from her?"

A contemptuous look passed across Elizabeth's face at the mention of Cecilia before she continued. "I spoke to her, you know. Oh, she seems nice enough but someone like that will always try to fool people. Such is the way with a machiavellian person. Whatever else she may say, she knows Nathan and I are meant to be together. I am his lifetime love and he is mine. The woman just hasn't accepted it but I will make sure that she does."

She looked at him with such a tormented expression as she added, "Then there is the problem of Jack coming back. What am I going to tell him?"

Charles was accustomed to Elizabeth being confused about her first husband being dead but her thoughts about Cecilia Grant concerned him. He had met her a number of years earlier, before her marriage, and knew her to always be kind and gentle towards everyone, let alone one of the brightest and bravest women he had ever met. He was certain that if she had spoken to Elizabeth at all then it would have been in a manner designed to help her.

He had to think quickly to prevent Elizabeth from doing something dangerous. "Let me take you back to your house and then I will go out to get Little Jack for you." As Elizabeth started to protest he continued, "That way you can have things ready to give him a proper welcome home."

She smiled then and for a moment Charles was taken back to the sweet Elizabeth he had known all those years ago. He had been fighting a battle on her behalf for so long and each day the struggle to continue became much harder, yet he would go on so long as there was a glimmer of hope that somewhere deep inside her was the person he had once known.

"Yes, you are right Charles. I shall make everything ready to welcome my boy home. Then later, when Jack returns from the Northern Territories we will all be together as a family."

As Charles nodded and rose to his feet Elizabeth looked down, hiding her expression from him as she thought about the next step that she needed to take to achieve her goal, while the voice inside her head was saying that maybe Charles being here could be useful.

At the other end of the street Bill Avery had made a good show of ushering the two gamblers along towards his judges' chambers, "It seems we're having a glut of arrests this evening, gentlemen. Three criminals already in the cells means that I am going to have to deal with you two in my office. Let's hope you have a good explanation for what has been going on so that I don't have to start thinking about building an extension to the jail."

As Antoine walked quietly along in front Bruce took on the role of the obstreperous one, protesting loudly "Look here mate, we have done nothing wrong, you can't just arrest us like this!"

"Who said anything about arresting you?" Bill replied, "We're just going to have ourselves a nice talk." The few remaining customers still hanging about The Little Gem Saloon looked aside as they passed, all thinking that the judiciary's version of a little talk was often anything but that.

Once inside the office Bill locked the door and checked that the blinds were all drawn. It was only at this point that the two Mounties were able to relax, the smiles on their faces evidence of just how happy they were to not have been rumbled. Suddenly a noise from the back put them all on alert, until the voice of Greg Aldritt came through from the rear hallway. "How the hell did you get in here?" asked Bill.

Greg laughed, "Picking locks is an essential part of the unofficial Mountie training handbook according to Superintendent Grant, I happen to excel at it!" The other three were glad to see him, having left the saloon not knowing whether he managed to complete his task undetected.

He set a stack of papers down on the desk in front of Bill before turning to shake hands with his colleagues. "That was some fracas you got going in there Antoine, without having to throw a single punch yourself. You have always had that smooth French style about you! And nice step up there Bruce, taking the heat from everyone else by passing it sideways to your mate."

Bill returned from double checking everything was secure at the back of the building, noting the camaraderie between the Mounties before he said "Why don't you two start going through all the papers that Greg managed to find while he writes out notes on anything else he saw before they are forgotten. Then we will have to return all of this so that no-one is aware that he was there". They all nodded in agreement.

"Greg, that will then free you up to get out to watching Elizabeth's house as Nathan requested. I really think our two gamblers here should remain in character for a while longer, just in case we need to obtain any more information at the saloon."

In the jail Harold Bishop was sitting back with his feet propped up on the desk, his eyes closed as he took what seemed to be a well deserved thirty minutes of shut eye. The three prisoners had finally settled down, none of them willing to tell him their names, who they were working for nor explain why they were so scared of going back to the warehouse compound.

He knew that it wasn't because of the dogs. They were safely tied up in the woods, possibly anxious as to what was happening but replete from the meat feast they had been given. Hopefully they had settled down and would sleep until someone could go out to sort them tomorrow.

Before the men in the cells had calmed down he had caught some of their conversation. Prisoners were unaware that even their quietest whispers had a habit of echoing in the jailhouse, something he was happy to take advantage of. He had heard mention of a train shipment and whether the missing final wagonload would affect it. Worryingly, there was reassurance from the car driver that their Mountie friend would have everything under control. No honest Mountie liked to think that any of his colleagues were dirty but Harold knew that there were always going to be some rotten apples in the barrel.

In his cell, the driver had gone quiet, trying to figure out the easiest way to get himself out of here. Then he questioned whether that was the best thing for him as he had a feeling this would derail the bigger plan and the consequences to him would be severe. He had thought that by completing this job there would be no more threats but recently had begun to realise that it was never going to end. This diversion was important to the people who employed him as it would make it appear that the fight against the bootleggers was going well. Little did the Mounties know that while they were distracted by what was happening here, much bigger alcohol shipments were going undetected elsewhere.

He didn't understand what had led two different mobs to Hope Valley, but he had been told that once they had become aware of Elizabeth Thornton's presence here and Lucas Bouchard's different businesses it did not take long for them to persuade the saloon owner that it would be in his best interest to help them. It was said that Bouchard had really gotten out of his depth dealing with the gangsters, believing that he could put anything past them. It was impossible as they had eyes and ears everywhere.

There were rumours, however, that someone else was pulling Bouchard's strings. Even that a woman was in charge, someone who knew exactly how to handle the big players. The problem, however, had been in handling the small man who thought he was running things here in Hope Valley.

Harold watched from under half closed eyes, knowing that if one of them was going to have anything of value to tell then it would be the car driver, the man from the warehouse. He was obviously far more involved with the gangsters and having been at the compound all the time they had it under surveillance he knew what was left there that seemingly posed such a danger that he did not want to return. He was also the one in the deepest trouble so perhaps the most willing to strike a deal.

Kicking his chair back as he stood he wandered across to the stove where a pot of coffee had been brewing for some time, the aroma filling the jailhouse. The car driver kept his eyes closed but sensed the movement of the Mountie. Not wanting to show that he was interested he resisted the temptation to look, although his body language told a different story. He had shifted on the cot as Harold moved, his shoulders rising slightly as his head made the tiniest of movements as it followed him.

This was a good sign, Harold thought. Under the Superintendent's tutelage their training had included the skills required to read a suspect's mood, to understand when they were open to conversation or when it was best to leave them alone to let their thoughts bring them down. This man was ready, he thought.

Turning he lifted the pot and with a nod asked "Coffee? It's not the best but it's all we've got I'm afraid."

The man raised himself up slowly on the cot, swinging his legs around until he was sitting looking directly at the Mountie, hurriedly trying to come up with the best way to get a deal without divulging too much information. It was always important to keep something in reserve. Then he nodded his acceptance of the offer.

Peering around cautiously from the position on the hill above the orphanage where they had stopped the car, Helen Bouchard noted the locations she thought they would have people placed. Not that she had any intention of sneaking in. No, her plan was to do the unexpected and walk straight up to the front door, but she still wanted to be prepared for what they may face.

It was no surprise to her that Little Jack had been brought here. The focus right now would be on Hope Valley and from what she knew of Nathan Grant she expected that he would want to put as much distance as possible between there and the young boy who could so easily become a pawn in this whole affair.

It was Gustav who had told her that Little Jack had left town, along with Patrick Coulter and Allie Grant. While out gathering a special champignon that grew in the spring, he had spotted the children being transferred from horses to the car driven by Henry Gowan. With his wife in the passenger seat it wasn't difficult to work out where they were headed.

He had telephoned her immediately he returned to the saloon, not sure whether to tell Lucas. It was her decision to keep this information from her son so that his attention was not drawn away from the game. Plus it was a card that she wanted to play without him interfering and getting things wrong. Thank goodness for Gustav, her sister's oldest son. There were times she wished she could do a swap but for now his unassuming position as the chef at the saloon was a perfect cover for keeping an eye on things, including what Lucas was up to.

She had realised a long time ago that he was not made for the big time. His lack of business acumen had become obvious to her through all his failed enterprises. Add his gambling problems to that and she knew that while he may have a flamboyant persona to present to the world, someone else would always have to be running things behind the scenes. He may tell himself he was in charge but that was most certainly not the case.

It had all been going so well. She had even managed to turn his debts with the mobsters into an advantage. His infatuation with Elizabeth Thornton had worked in their favour and although his charm offensive had been foiled by the arrival of Nathan Grant they had thwarted any romance by making her realise that the safety of her family depended on her doing as they requested.

The planting of doubts about what had happened at Fort Clay in Elizabeth's already fragile mind had been her masterstroke.

This had been a dangerous path to tread, dealing with so much evil, and yet she relished the challenge and excitement. Now things were falling apart and she had to act quickly. She knew that she shouldn't have expected anything different and it was frustrating that Lucas had lost control of the situation in Hope Valley but she had a back-up plan should things turn against them. Once she had hold of Little Jack she would be in the driver's seat for negotiating with all parts of the dynamic. He was the prize that everyone would want, the one thing that would give them power over the Thatcher Shipping businesses. Maybe she should take Allie Grant too, as payback to the Mountie for all the problems he had caused them.

Nathan checked his watch, knowing that he needed to hurry. As much as it had delayed him, seeing Cecilia for those brief moments had been important for them both. He felt re-energised just holding her in his arms and refocused knowing that she was in a safe place, both mentally and physically. Now he could concentrate without worry on what he had to do.

As he led Newton from the livery, where Walter and Patrick were keeping guard of the wagon and evidence from the warehouse, he was surprised to hear his name called by a voice he did not recognise. A tall, well-dressed man was approaching, his pace quickening as he realised that the Mountie was ready to depart somewhere. "Superintendent Grant, could I have a word please?"

"Good evening sir, I'm afraid I am in rather a hurry so unless it is something extremely urgent then I would ask you to visit me at the Mountie Office tomorrow."

Nathan could tell that the man was not accustomed to being put off by people and that as he got closer he was giving him a good appraisal, possibly to determine the mood of the law officer and whether he should continue.

"If I could just introduce myself quickly and state my business I will let you decide the immediacy of any action that is required." With manners that came automatically to him the man then held out his hand to shake Nathan's as he continued speaking.

"My name is Charles Kensington, I am a friend of the Thatcher Family and in particular, Elizabeth Bouchard."

Nathan recognised the name as one he had heard in many conversations over the years, particularly the retelling by Lee Coulter of how Jack Thornton had come across the man on bended knee proposing to Elizabeth just as he was on his way to do the same.

"I have just escorted Elizabeth home, having found her wandering alone behind The Tipperary. I'm not sure if you are aware but there is a passageway out of the back of the neighbouring building that connects to a secret room upstairs in the saloon. I only know about it because Elizabeth mentioned it when she was in a bad state some time ago, rambling on about many things including that. That is why I headed there when she was not at her house."

Nathan smiled, glad to know that he had not been wrong in thinking Elizabeth was still somewhere in the building when he and Greg Aldritt had searched it a little while ago and made a mental note to include that in their investigation of the goings on at that saloon. But why would Elizabeth know about it? And what was her connection with the proprietors that she was able to use this hidden facility so easily?

He realised that his expression had caused the other man to pause, so indicated with a nod for him to continue.

"The only way that I managed to get her to return home was to promise that I would go out to The Coulter property to get Little Jack and bring him back to the house. Can I be honest with you Superintendent? This is the worst I have ever seen her. At first, after her breakdown when you left…"

Charles shook his head as Nathan started to interrupt, then continued, "You must never blame yourself, you did what was right for you and your daughter. Had you stayed then your worst fears would have come true, she would have brought you down with her. Maybe not immediately, but eventually. This would have happened to Elizabeth no matter what you did."

Nathan knew the man was right but still he couldn't stop himself feeling some guilt that he wasn't here to help her. When he remained silent Charles continued.

"At first they diagnosed it as a brief psychotic disorder, something not uncommon apparently in people who have suffered serious emotional trauma, as in Elizabeth's case. After Jack died she was able to hang on to normality for a period, mainly because of the arrival of Little Jack, but even then there were signs of a change in her behaviour. There is a term they use now to describe her condition, Schizophrenia. It is only recently that I have been able to consult with the doctors who have confirmed this fits Elizabeth's condition. There is no cure, only extreme treatments that no-one wanted to see her undergo, so that just left the hope that in the right environment she would manage to live a semi-normal life for as long as possible. I fear now that time is over and she needs more serious help."

Taking a deep breath, Nathan tried to understand what had happened to Elizabeth. Had he ever known the real woman or had she already been suffering from the effects of this mental illness when he met her. "I have heard of Schizophrenia. In fact, I am sure that my wife wrote an article on the lack of diagnosis of this disease, particularly relating to the poor soldiers who returned from the war having suffered so much trauma and how badly they were treated."

Charles was glad that the Mountie had an understanding, hoping that it would help make what he had to say next less of a surprise.

"She was very confused tonight, mixing up the people and events in her life and what is happening now. I have to tell you that I am afraid of what she may do, which is why I needed to speak to you."

"I understand, of course we must make sure Elizabeth doesn't do anything to hurt herself."

"No, it is not Elizabeth I am worried about but your wife. I think Elizabeth may try to harm her in some way".

Nathan could feel the fear wash over him, the thought of anything happening to Cecilia more than he could bear. He looked the other man directly in the eyes, trying to work out how much he could trust what he was saying. "What makes you think that?"

Recounting his conversation with Elizabeth he explained how determined she had been that she and Nathan were meant to be together and that no-one, especially Cecilia, was going to stop them.

The two men had walked as they were talking, Nathan now picking up the pace as they headed back towards Bill's office where he quickly tied Newton to the rail and mounted the steps. Knocking on the door he called out to the men inside, "It's Nathan, I need to speak to you all again urgently."

When the door opened he hurried in with Charles after him. A quick introduction was followed by a brief explanation of the situation and the immediate issuing of orders to the three Mounties.

As Greg made his way out of the door in the direction of the rowhouses, determined this time not to lose track of Elizabeth, Charles was close on his heels after offering to speak with her again and make sure she didn't do anything foolish. Greg would meanwhile be watching from the back in case she tried to leave that way.

They all agreed that checking the paperwork would have to wait, so Bill locked it away in his safe for the night. Nathan very much doubted it would be missed immediately anyway and, even then, it would only be if Bouchard was planning to make a run for it. Antoine and Bruce were to head back to The Little Gem Saloon to make sure that didn't happen without them knowing and stopping him.

Nathan tried to keep his heart from racing as he and Bill hurried along to the house, hopeful that Cecilia and Molly were still sitting chatting in the living room as he had left them just a short while before. There was no point in using any kind of smokescreen to explain the situation. Both their wives were astute women who would see through any story that the men could spin. The truth of the situation needed to be explained and a plan devised for their safety.

In her rowhouse Elizabeth had been pacing up and down the space from the front to the back door, her eyes following the line of the floorboards as she wondered what was taking Charles so long. Unable to wait any longer she reached for her bag, the items she needed safely inside as she opened the door, looking out for signs of anyone watching. Feeling certain that she was alone she stepped silently down onto the road, wrapped in a dark shawl to blend in with the night.

From across the grass the man from Hamilton watched as she descended the steps, then quietly turned to follow as she moved towards the town.