A/N: Time to learn a little of Elsie's past, and meet a new character. This one has some traces of truth from my own life, regarding the young Mr. Barrow. Suffice to say that not all children live happy lives.

To all of you lovely, wonderful reviewers - thank you! I know this fic - and the progression of the Chelsie in particular - isn't for everyone, but I'm glad you're hanging in there.

xx, CSotA

October - November

The remainder of October had passed quickly. Elsie and Charles barely had time to see one another at all, let alone spend any quality time together; she was away two of the four weekends - visiting friends, she told him - and he had to travel to New York for a few days for work. Daisy stayed behind with Edith when he was gone, meaning Daisy and Marigold were now closer than ever.

Elsie had brought pizzas over to the Carsons' place one weeknight after Daisy invited her (via written note) to come over for movie night. The girl had baked another apple pie, bless her, this time with a little assistance from her Papa, and she wanted Elsie to be able to enjoy it with them. She'd not spoken to Elsie again since the day on the farm, but Elsie wasn't giving up hope.

Movie night had been an uncomfortable evening in many ways, as Elsie expected it to be; she and Charles didn't dare even hold hands in front of Daisy, yet everywhere they looked they were reminded of their night together in this house. Elsie certainly wasn't sorry for how their "date" had ended, and neither was Charles, but it was hard to go back to the way it had been before that night.

Daisy, of course, knew nothing, and Charles wasn't quite sure how or when to bring it up. But Daisy had continued to natter on about Ms. Hughes enough at home that he knew, when the time came, it likely wouldn't be a huge issue that he was dating the lovely nurse - if one could consider it 'dating' even; for now, he and Elsie were confining themselves to phone conversations, managing to speak daily except when one of them was out of town. They both enjoyed their talks immensely, and were learning a great deal about one another, but Charles couldn't help but think that they were moving through their relationship backwards.

Then, a few days after Halloween, Edith came into work absolutely glowing. Her long-time partner - Bertie Pelham, the town's accountant - had finally proposed. Marigold adored him, and Edith couldn't have been happier if she'd tried.

Elsie hugged her warmly that day with truly heartfelt congratulations; after all, it had been Elsie who'd taken the dreadful call from the doctor when Marigold's father had suffered a heart attack, and it had been Elsie who'd had to deliver that news to Edith in the teacher's work room. It had been Elsie who'd held Edith as she sobbed at the hospital as they waited for more news, only to find out that Michael hadn't survived, and it had been Elsie who'd helped with all of the follow-up arrangements.

Very few people knew about this, which was fine with both women; however, the entire situation had resulted in Elsie's intense dislike of Mary Carlisle; simply put, Elsie was happy to help Edith, but she'd been furious that Edith's own sister didn't see fit to do much at all, save a bit of babysitting Marigold in the weeks that followed. And, a few years later, it had been Elsie (and not Mary, nor anyone else with any formal position in town) who'd spoken so eloquently at the school board meeting, encouraging Edith's appointment as principal - something which had cemented their friendship into the closeness they now enjoyed.

Yes, Edith's wedding would be something to celebrate, indeed, Elsie told herself, and she knew she'd play a part in the planning of it. She bit down the jealousy she felt, knowing the time wasn't right to further develop her relationship with Charles, but she longed for the day when they, too, might be that happy. She was no fool; it was a distinct possibility, for even though these last weeks hadn't provided time for them to be alone with one another, neither felt the pull of the other growing any weaker.

Perhaps we'll attend the wedding together, she thought suddenly, and she felt a warm flush break out over her body. Oh, yes … well, that would be something … more dancing, of course.

A quiet tap on the door brought Elsie out of her musings. "Yes?"

It was young Tommy Barrow, looking a bit worse for the wear than he had when she'd seen him out the door yesterday afternoon.

"Tommy?" She bit her tongue before saying the customary 'How are you feeling?' that she'd normally have given, because she could see very well how he was - the angry, red weal on his temple spoke volumes about his present physical and emotional state.

"I've just come for a bag, Ms. Hughes, if I may," he muttered, turning away from her.

Elsie was having none of it. She rose from her desk and shut the door, then turned to Tommy and gave him a sad but supportive smile. He considered her for a split second, his need for comfort at war with his desire to be brave. But, seconds later, Elsie found her arms full of the sobbing boy. She spared a brief thought for the closed door, but knew no one would call her on impropriety; everyone knew Tommy's story.

Elsie could feel the anger seething off of her but tried to calm herself for the sake of the boy. Tommy knew enough anger at home, had enough troubles to deal with when he wasn't in her office, and he needed no more of that now.

"When does he sail out again?" she asked instead.

"Next Friday - and I can't wait," he answered venomously. "I hate him, Ms. Hughes … I really do."

"Hatred will get you nothing, Tommy," she advised sagely, "except an upset belly and a preoccupied mind."

"I know," he said, "but I can't help it. At least he left Mum alone this time."

Yes, and thank God for that, Elsie thought. The last time Mr. Barrow had gone after his wife, she'd landed in the emergency room with a broken arm - and no desire whatsoever to file a complaint against her 'darling husband.'

"Does it hurt?"

Tommy backed up and touched the mark on his temple. "No, not much," he admitted gratefully. "He almost missed me completely - I'm getting too fast for him now. I'll catch it when I get home, though …"

"What if you had a job, Tommy?" Elsie asked suddenly. "What if you could bring some money home, perhaps?" She'd been thinking about this for a while now, but hadn't formulated a coherent plan to carry it out.

"Don't I wish! But I'm not old enough."

"It's only, I was thinking," she said, making it up as she went, "I could use someone to help me out at the farm before winter comes. The lawn needs some tidying and the garden needs pulling up, I could use my fence painted … there are just too many things for me to do with the days getting shorter and shorter."

"What about Anna? Doesn't she work for you?" he asked suspiciously.

"She does," Elsie admitted, "but she spends all her time taking care of the horses and working with the children who are taking lessons." Perhaps we can provide another type of therapy, too.

"You're serious?" he pressed. "You'd have me to your home? To work on your farm?"

"I would, if you think you'd like that," she said gently.

"I think I'd like that very much," Thomas said gratefully. "Anything to not be home … but what's the catch?"

"Well," Elsie said firmly, "if we are to do this, we have to come to a couple of agreements. Here, sit," she said, pointing to the chair opposite her desk. He complied, and she handed him the lunch bag he'd come in for originally.

"Thank you, Ms. Hughes," he said, tearing into his sandwich hungrily as she recommenced her speech.

"You're welcome. Now, I must not hear of you bullying any more students, do you hear, Tommy? You, of all boys, should know the value of that," she added softly, and he had the decency to look ashamed as he chewed through the second half of the PB&J.

"Yes, ma'am," he mumbled after swallowing hugely.

Elsie reached over to the fridge and pulled out two cartons of milk which she handed to him. He nodded his thanks and opened the first immediately, drinking it down in four gulps.

"Slow down," she admonished quietly.

"You said 'a couple of agreements' - more than one," he reminded her as he wiped his mouth on his sleeve. "What's the second?"

"I will, of course, pay you fairly for your work. I will give you half of the wages to bring home to your father," she said, "and will keep half here in an envelope in the school's safe. You can bring that money to your mother when your Pa heads off on the ship," she said, nodding firmly. "I know your Mum will let you keep a portion of it, and the rest can go to helping her out a bit, hm?"

Tommy thought he'd died and gone to heaven, but trust did not come easily to him. He scrunched up his face in suspicion, asking, "Why are you doing this? Really?"

Elsie sat back and nibbled on her lip, considering the boy before her. She tilted her head, and he knew she was debating whether or not to tell him the truth. He stared back almost defiantly, as if daring her to lie.

She didn't.

"When I was a young lass in Scotland," she said quietly, "my father was quite a bit like yours, except that we were farmers, not sailors, and so my Da never left for weeks at a time." She paused, and let that sink in for a moment.

Elsie saw a flicker of emotion flit through Tommy's eyes, one she immediately read as fear tinged with sadness, and she knew she'd been right to tell him.

"So, I know how much it means to you to be able to feel useful, in charge of making a decision like this for yourself, and how nice it would be for you to have some physical labor through which to take out your … frustration," she finished.

Thomas's eyes widened, and he knew instantly that she was telling the truth. Ms. Hughes understood, she got it, in a way that no one else ever had.

Elsie smiled sadly, knowing she'd convinced him, but she didn't expect the questions that followed.

"How did you get away?" he whispered. "How did you leave her?"

Oh, my God … he'd run away, Els, but he won't leave his mother behind. Bless him.

"My Mam died when I was sixteen," she said truthfully. "Influenza. I took a job at a local hotel and saved every penny. When I turned eighteen and had finished school, I packed up my younger sister and myself and left in the middle of the night, bound for London. And there," she added, "I had the very good fortune to meet a kind woman who took us in and helped us out. I was able to go to nursing school on a scholarship, and here I am."

Tommy was just staring at her, and she could see the newfound appreciation in his eyes for her story - and, probably, for the fact that she'd just spilled that story to an eleven-year-old boy without batting an eyelash.

"When can I start, Ms. Hughes?"

"How about today? What time is good for you to return home at night?" What time will he be asleep? she meant, and knew he understood.

"Usually after seven is safe," he answered, meaning it quite literally.

"I'll phone your mother and talk to her," Elsie told him, "and you'll have dinner with me tonight." She smirked, then added, "And your homework will be done, too."

He smiled and laughed at that, and Elsie was grateful for the way the sight and sound of it warmed her heart.

Elsie had just dropped Tommy off at home, his first day having gone remarkably well. She parked the truck near her half-painted fence and was heading across the driveway to the front door when she heard a second vehicle pulling in. She looked up, but was momentarily blinded by the headlights.

Charles? she wondered, noticing the size of the car. When he turned to park, she could see and verify that, yes, it was his Volvo.

She stood dumbfounded, watching him as he hurried over to her. The only thing she could think of was Where's Daisy? Oh, God, let her be alright … But he allayed her fears somewhat when he finally reached her, swept her up in his arms, and kissed her passionately.

Charles felt Elsie smile into the kiss, and he broke away to catch his breath.

"I've been needing to do that for weeks!" he gasped. "God, Elsie, I've missed you."

"I think you're missing someone else, aren't you?" she asked, eyebrow raised. "Where is Daisy? I was afraid something awful had happened to her the way you flew into my driveway!"

"Oh, I'm so sorry! She's fine - she's home. Edith and Marigold came for dinner and are with her now." He looked into her eyes sheepishly. "I may have said that I had to run to the store quickly, for some more milk as we're almost out …"

"I see," she laughed, her hands resting on his chest. "And have you made it there?"

"I have," he said, standing up straight and proper. "I wouldn't have lied, exactly …"

"I'm glad." She reached up and brushed the back of her knuckles over his later-than-five-o'clock shadow. "And I've missed you terribly, Charles."

"You've been busy," he said, testing the waters. She'd been away twice and not told him where, exactly. He realized they weren't quite in a relationship, but he was a bit hurt by it nonetheless.

"I have."

Alright, then. "Elsie, I don't mean to pry, but …"

She cocked her head and smirked at him. "But you will," she teased gently. "And I don't mean to keep it from you forever. It's just a very long story that you don't have time to hear now, and one that's definitely not meant to be had over the phone."

"Would you come for dinner this week? Please? I mentioned it to Daisy and she was thrilled with the idea. She sees you more than I do," he added sadly. "I admit it - I'm jealous."

Elsie wrapped her arms around his middle, and he enveloped her in his own. "I don't like it, either," she admitted, "but …"

"I'd like to tell her about us, Elsie. This week - at dinner, if you'll come. I don't want to go another month without spending any actual time with you."

She didn't answer at first, just listened to his heartbeat as she laid her ear on his chest. He smelled faintly of cologne and smoke, and she knew instantly he'd had a fire in the pit on the beach. Elsie wondered if he'd made s'mores with Daisy, and the thought of not having been a part of that made her heart twinge with sadness.

"Yes," she said simply, and she felt his soft sigh of relief.

"Good. Thursday?"

Elsie leaned back and looked up at him, then nodded. "What shall I bring?"

"Max," he said, causing her to laugh.

"Seriously?"

"Will he behave?"

"Oh, yes - he's a good boy," Elsie replied fondly.

"Then yes, seriously." He looked deep into her eyes. "Perhaps he should get to know my place," he smiled. "I'd like to think you might spend more time there eventually." He reached down for another kiss.

"Mmm," she hummed against his mouth. "I like the thought of that, but not right away, and no staying over for a very long time if it bothers Daisy."

"I agree," he reassured her, delighted that she was coming for dinner. He already had an idea of how Daisy would react, and he was not nearly as concerned as Elsie was.

"Alright, Charles. Me and one dog, Thursday at … six?"

"Perfect."

Elsie walked him over to his car and kissed him goodbye.

"Oh, and Elsie?" he said, reaching into the console for something.

"Yes?"

Charles handed her a cream-colored envelope. She recognized it immediately and smiled brilliantly at him.

"Edith asked me to pass this along to you, said she didn't see the point of sending you one as well as you'll just be coming with me." He raised one eyebrow at her, questioning.

"Oh, will I? I wonder where she got that idea ..."

He faltered for a moment, but she leaned in and kissed his cheek.

"Of course I will, you old booby," she teased him. "And I happen to know she mailed those out days ago. I thought you'd never get around to asking!"

Thursday dragged for Elsie. She couldn't wait to get to Charles's place, but first she had to prepare things for Friday's field trip. It had been rescheduled three times now because Ms. O'Brien had fought the details tooth and nail, to the point that poor Mr. Molesley had trouble booking the museum before Thanksgiving. Elsie stayed out of it, but she'd gotten enough details from Phyllis to know that Mr. Molesley was miserable about the whole situation. He had begged Phyllis to attend as a chaperone and she'd agreed, for which Elsie was grateful as Daisy would be going on the trip with the rest of her class. Charles was unable to get the time off given the change in date, and Phyllis would be the group leader for Daisy and four of her classmates.

Elsie packed up the last of the prescription meds for the trip and printed out detailed dosing instructions for each child, then matched the printouts with the medication and set them aside. She moved on to the red zippered pouches for each chaperone, into which went the non-prescription items such as bandages and antibiotic ointment. The prescription meds went into a separate bag, marked for the doctor who would be in attendance. Elsie knew him from town - a delightful man by the name of Richard, whose great niece was in Daisy's class.

Thank heaven they're all on the one bus, Elsie told herself. She liked to be as organized as possible, particularly with the medication. The bags went into a red snap-tote tub, which Elsie would hand off to Phyllis in the morning upon departure.

"Edith," she called as she headed down the hall, "I'm heading out. I've locked everything in my room and will be in early tomorrow to get it to Phyllis."

Edith looked up from her desk and smiled. "Alright, and thank you, Elsie. You work harder than any of us - don't think I don't notice it," she added with a wink. "Now go to dinner! Don't you keep Uncle Charlie waiting. And please tell me that you don't have to rush home tonight?"

"I don't, thankfully, as Anna works on Thursdays. And I won't keep him waiting," Elsie replied, waving a goodbye as she headed outside. She practically ran to her truck, knowing she wanted time for a quick shower before heading over.

But Elsie had nothing to fear; in fact, she ended up being ready early, so she fed Max before they left.

"That way," she told her pup, "you'll be be more likely to leave us alone during our own dinner."

Max wagged his tail, and she bent to give him a scratch behind the ears. "Just be sure you're ready to play with Daisy afterward."

Max appreciated the change in his schedule, of course. As soon as he finished eating, she let him run outside for a couple of minutes to take care of business, and then they jumped in the truck and headed over to the Carsons' place.

Elsie and Max made their way up the steps and Elsie rang the bell. The sound of it was deep and rather loud, and didn't match the feeling of the house at all. It startled her, and before she recovered the door opened.

Charles smiled brilliantly at her, and Elsie found she couldn't quite speak. After a moment she tore her eyes from his and looked down at the rest of him, her eyes widening as they landed on his legs.

"Are those jeans?" she asked incredulously.

"Yes." Charles looked worried immediately. "Do they look foolish?" he asked, a grimace on his face.

Her laughter tinkled as she stood on the front step, and Elsie heard Daisy's footsteps coming down the hall. "No," Elsie answered, "they look wonderful, actually - nice, casual." She looked down at the blur that had just appeared in the doorway. "Hello again, Daisy. Are you ready for tomorrow?"

Nod.

"Good."

"You can come in, you know," Charles smirked. "I don't bite."

Daisy reached out for Elsie's hand and pulled her in through the hallway, but Elsie managed to throw a mischievous look back at Charles: Yes, you do, she mouthed silently.

His sputtering cough was all she needed to begin giggling in earnest. Daisy turned to look at her quizzically, but Elsie just shook her head and allowed the girl to bring her into the kitchen.

"Daisy!" Elsie exclaimed, needing a change of topic and seeing a plate of cookies on the countertop. "Did you make those?"

Nod.

"You're becoming quite the little baker, aren't you?" Elsie asked fondly. Daisy smiled in return, and Charles asked her to go and set the table. It was her favorite task, and Elsie watched as Daisy scurried off into the other room; Charles had shown her two years ago how to do lay a proper table, and she took pride in making it look nice whenever they had guests.

"She is," he murmured, and Elsie jumped as she realized he'd sneaked up behind her. He reached his hand out and grasped hers briefly, placing a gentle kiss to the back of her head.

"Charles," she warned in a whisper, "that's not a good idea."

"I know," he said, already steps away by the time the words were out. "Wine?"

Elsie nodded, and he poured two glasses for them and a glass of milk for Daisy. Elsie took her glass and Daisy's and they moved into the dining room. Max followed along, laying down in the corner at Elsie's command.

Dinner was, somewhat to Elsie's surprise, a fabulous lasagna, homemade bread, and salad.

"Daisy," Charles said once everyone's plates had been portioned out and they'd begun eating, "there's something I'd like to ask you." He shot a sideways glance at Elsie, who nodded just enough for him to feel encouraged.

Daisy looked at him, her eyebrows furrowed. Then she looked at Ms. Hughes, then back at her Papa again, clearly trying to work out why he was bringing something up now and not when they were alone.

Suddenly an idea flew through her mind - an idea so wonderful that she instantly dismissed it. But she saw her Papa give Ms. Hughes a little smile, and saw Ms. Hughes return it and nod slightly, and she allowed herself to hope as a smile tugged at her lips.

Charles watched his daughter, thinking she looked like she was watching a tennis match between the two adults. He saw her smile and he looked at Elsie again, waiting until she swallowed her food before speaking.

"She knows," he said simply.

Elsie's eyes widened with shock and a little trepidation. She swallowed and managed to steady herself. "Pardon?"

"Daisy," he continued, looking at his daughter, "do you know what I want to speak to you about … why I waited for Ms. Hughes to be here?"

Daisy thought fast, then came to a decision. She nodded, and smiled brilliantly at her Papa.

"You see," he continued, "I know that Ms. Hughes thinks highly of you."

Elsie nodded, choosing to remain silent, and she smiled at Daisy.

"And I know that you care a great deal for Ms. Hughes …" he trailed off, suddenly at a loss for words.

"And so do you," Daisy said simply, softly, before she forked a bite of lasagna into her mouth. She looked up at the shocked adults, and giggled.

Charles flushed crimson but sat up straighter, looking at his daughter with appraising eyes as Elsie watched them both with astonishment and emotion written all over her face.

"Well ... yes, I do ... Does that bother you, petal? Does it make you ... uncomfortable?" Charles asked.

But Daisy shook her head. No.

Elsie felt it was her turn to speak up. "Daisy, I would like you to know that I care about both of you very much, but I am not trying take your mother's place."

Daisy was shocked to hear mention of Alice, but it didn't hurt like she thought it would … not when Ms. Hughes talked about her, anyhow.

"I know," she whispered. She refilled her salad bowl, and saw out of the corner of her eye when Ms. Hughes reached for her Papa's arm and squeezed it briefly.

"I think," Elsie said quietly, "that when we aren't in school, you might want to call me 'Elsie.'"

Daisy nodded, then giggled again before finishing the rest of her milk.

Well, thought Charles, that's alright then.

The small party finished their dinner in relative silence, and then Daisy got up to clear the table. She put the plates in the sink and returned with the plate of cookies. As she was on her way over to the table, she noticed her Papa pull Ms. Hughes's - no, Elsie's - hand in his own and squeeze it, and saw Elsie smile so sweetly at him.

It would take a little getting used to, but Daisy was already happy about this new situation. She would always love her Mummy, but Mummy had never looked at Papa like that, not that Daisy could remember, anyhow; the way Elsie looked at him, it was like she just adored him. And the look on his face was just as sweet. Daisy almost felt like she wasn't supposed to see that look at all but, then again, if that were the truth, Papa would have been sure it never happened at all.

And so it was that, on a chilly Thursday evening in November - and for the first time since they'd arrived - Daisy really felt like Misty Cove could actually be a new place to call home.

A/N #2: Mandated reporting in the U.S. ... Yes, I know. Please have faith, I'm getting there.
:)