It was a gorgeous day, really. Remnants of the risen sun were still visible in the sky to see the silhouettes of chirping birds across the slowly diminishing azure-fuchsia horizon. Anyone would be overjoyed just at the sheer beauty of it all. Well, almost.
Mrs. Elizabeth Thornton was not overjoyed. Instead, she found herself trying to soothe a fussy little Jack. Her son was plopped on the settee while she bent down on her knees in front of him.
"Oh, come on, little Jack!" She exclaimed, attempting to slide on some spring boots on her son's wiggling toes. "Just a little further, then we can go!" After a couple seconds, the shoe finally slipped on, and Elizabeth stood back, hands on her hips, to admire her work. Jack was finally dressed in a brown, light, felt coat and darker slacks, with an adorable robin's egg blue button-up underneath. She thought it was the perfect outfit to clad little Jack in for the chilly, early May Alberta mornings.
This was Elizabeth's second Mother's Day, the special occasion meant to be a reminder of the gratitude all people have for mothers everywhere. She honestly felt as though this was a bittersweet day; little Jack was not so little anymore (evidence of his ill fitting clothes), and Jack Sr. was not with them. It's not that she wasn't thankful for the abundance of help from the residents of Hope Valley, she just wished, longed, for little Jack to have a father figure in his life.
And God only knows if that's not too far off… Elizabeth thought, smiling at her boy, whilst finding her thoughts dance around the idea of Nathan being a father. Hold on, she paused, placing a hand on her forehead, as if checking for a fever. I just thought of Nathan. Not anyone else. Shaking her head, she dismissed the ludicrous prospect. Things were already complicated enough between the schoolteacher and the Mountie. After all, she was raising little Jack just fine, and didn't need a man in her life. But that didn't mean she didn't want one.
Elizabeth scooped up her son and debated bringing along a carriage, but ignored that thought as little Jack was becoming more partial to toddling around in his almost one and a half year frame. Although, he was slowly getting increasingly heavy and difficult to carry for long periods of time. The frontier woman ousted that misgiving and parted from her home, down the slate coloured wooden steps.
Elizabeth came to a halt outside her home on the gravel road. She contemplated walking over to her best friend, Rosemary's house, but decided against it. Elizabeth had a hunch that her ex-competition would be consoled by her husband, Lee, as she was taking this particular Mother's Day rather harshly. Rosemary had previously confided in Elizabeth about her troubles in bringing a child into the world, and Elizabeth concluded that the last thing she needed was her showing up on her doorstep, with her son, while Rosemary had none. She then continued to pace along the path.
At the very least Rosemary has Lee… Elizabeth reflected. As said by herself, maybe she could use some perspective, referring back to when Rosemary had advised Elizabeth to tell Nathan that in regards to him having a father, even though he thought he was still a thief. But once again, Elizabeth rid the thought out of her mind, knowing her slight jealousy could not get the best of her.
"Down!" a word escaped her young son's mouth, so she nuzzled him on the cheek and responded.
"You want to walk?"
Little Jack answered with a gummy grin as she set him on the ground. "Hold Mommy's hand, okay?" Elizabeth instructed, and felt a soft, warm hand intertwine with hers. "Your hand is my favourite one to hold…" she wistfully said.
Elizabeth knew she had a suitor. Two, actually. But ever since their "lover's embrace," or whatever Rosemary had called it, she found herself drawn to Nathan more and more. She felt so safe wrapped in his arms. Unconsciously, she had made a decision her mind wasn't fully aware of yet. Perhaps it was the fear of welcoming change into her life. Elizabeth thought she just needed some time to sift through all her emotions: that hug, she worried, was a tell-tale sign of her decision. The other part of her told herself that she was just scared of losing another Mountie; that she just hugged Nathan because it reminded her of Jack's death. If she was totally truthful with herself, very little of concern had to do with replaying Jack Sr. 's death. She was terrified that the man she had slowly grown to care for, the man with the last name that started with "G," had passed. The Emerson quote, Always do what you are afraid to do, was weaving itself further in her life, without Elizabeth knowing it.
Whatever the reason, she kept Nathan at arms length all week. She honestly kept the whole town at arms length, slightly embarrassed of her very forward conveyal of emotion. Her and Nathan's embrace was the talk of the century, thanks to Florence Blakely. She was tired of hearing gossips whisper about it whenever she was near, so Elizabeth solely went into town if she desperately had to, or pleaded Rosemary to go for her. Even Laura, who at first gave her a look of enigma when the request was initially made, now understood the depth of the problem (Elizabeth now frequently paid her extra to go fetch her groceries since it was beginning to be a recurring issue). She also needed time to think, away from everyone's perusal and scrutiny.
Lost in her thoughts, Elizabeth hadn't realized she and Jack were approaching the church (or schoolhouse, for that matter) and almost plowed right into Lucas.
"Whoa there!" He called out, turning around to face Elizabeth. His smile widened when he realized she was alone from any other adult companionship.
Elizabeth reacted quickly, eyes wide with shock. "Oh, Lucas, I am so so sorry! I didn't even see you there!"
"It's quite alright. I was going to look for you anyway."
Elizabeth raised an eyebrow. "Oh?" She questioned.
The saloon owner clasped his hands, failing to acknowledge little Jack in the slightest, who was beginning to tug the skirts of his mother. "You see, I have an idea that would positively impact the sales of your novel, when it comes out."
"That's good…" She replied imploringly, bending down to pick up her son.
"And so," he continued, "I was thinking you should maybe sign a few for the library for when we have the book celebration. You know, so each copy has the author's signature. It's becoming extremely faddish these days." Lucas explained, "It'll make readers feel connected to you, which will make them want to read it more and more! Your book will climb the top ten in Canada in no time!" He finished, awaiting her response.
Elizabeth sighed as Lucas made plans for when her novel could come out. He wanted there to be a party of sorts to publicize it, but she wasn't sure how she felt about all his grand ideas. "Sure, Lucas." She looked away slightly, not wanting to ruin his moment. She was aware that Lucas had seen her and Nathan's "lovers embrace," but looking down at her son made her realize that he hadn't mentioned Mother's Day or recognized her son. It made her momentarily doubt his potential ability in being a father figure.
Lucas beamed at her approval for the promotion of her book. He needed to get his and Elizabeth's relationship back on track, especially since the devious hug incident with Nathan. Anything to sway her from the Constable. He didn't think that Nathan was going to be a problem in his pursuit of the widow's heart, but the Mountie's acceptance of her embrace proved otherwise.
"Would you like to sit with me?" He asked, eyeing her.
Elizabeth groaned inwardly. Does nothing stop this man? Does he not see I want to be alone? "Sure, Lucas." She never wanted to be rude to him, or anyone, so she allowed herself to say yes, though deep down she wanted to say something contrary.
She should be pleased that anyone would even want to sit next to her, albeit if said person had ulterior motives. Per say, the dinner Lucas made up in the library the week prior. It was a very nice meal, even if he tried a little too hard to make it seem like a date. Was it a date? Elizabeth enjoyed it, either way. If the other man in the equation was showing no signs of interest she could enjoy the flattery of the other. Even if that meant she would be settling. That doesn't mean I'm a tramp, does it? It was just nice to have someone want me, without hesitation.
Elizabeth walked with him up the steps of the church and to the row of pews he was wanting to be situated in. His first choice was the middle row, but she needed to be near the exit in case Jack became finicky, so they moved down a couple rows.
"You know," Elizabeth had said, "little Jack gets fussy at times. I don't want to bother the congregation with his cries." When Lucas didn't pick up on the hint, she flat out told him. "Can we sit near the exit? You know, in case he cries?" Lucas then ahh-ed in understanding and strutted over to the left-side end rows. The saloon owner slid in first, and the woman took her place next to him. While they sat down, she placed her son next to her as Lucas spoke.
"...Also, I don't think wood goes well with the library. We should take everything down from the walls to create more new, modern looks…"
Elizabeth nodded politely, not really listening. Her gaze was focused on the brown open door letting church-goers in, searching for one face in particular.
Then, with Allie, came walking in Constable Nathan Grant. He saw Elizabeth looking at him, and seemed to want to greet her, but saw Lucas next to her. A guarded look filled his face. Nathan told himself he shouldn't be envious, but he couldn't help it. Seeing her with Lucas caused unwelcome feelings to boil up inside of him. Not that he expressed them.
Ever since the previous week, when Elizabeth ran to him and wrapped her arms around him, he thought he had a fair chance at winning her heart. Those hopes were soon assuaged as they now kept their distance. Nathan assumed it was because she was sorting her feelings out. Maybe the heartbreak of losing her husband was too much, or even was re-lived when she thought he was dead from a gunshot wound. Either way, Nathan was keeping his distance too. The last time they talked was a few days ago, when he was picking Allie up from school. Their conversation consisted of "Hello, Nathan," and "Goodbye, Elizabeth." He didn't want to hurt her; make her live in the fear of losing another loved Mountie. She had already gone through enough and for her to bear that emotion, that suffering, was too much for his heart to handle. He wanted her to be happy. Even if that meant she would be with the steady, wealthy, debonair, always-says-the-right-things-in-the-right-way Bouchard. Even he knew he couldn't compete with Lucas' smooth talk. Goodness, it was obvious that everyone knew.
As much as he told himself he was saving her from more heartbreak, but so was he. Nathan's close encounter with death had only made him more aware of his fellow Mountie's. Constable Richards was a rookie recruit who made a rookie mistake: cocking his rifle when it was unnecessary in an already-tense situation. Jenny O'Rourke's impulsive click of her gun had not only killed a man, but affected the men involved as well. Whenever a surprising pop went off, such as a steel kettle spewing hot evaporation, Nathan jumped, his heart racing at the memory of the day. This morning, when he and Allie were getting ready for church, Allie had pulled her handle too hard while shutting her door. The sudden slam of the door had caused Nathan to choke on his coffee, even though he was downstairs. Good thing Allie didn't notice; he tried to pretend he was fine around others. There was nothing about him to worry about. The only worries were inside his noggin, which he didn't want to burden anyone with. Nathan tried to shake it off, but he found himself constantly having nightmares about the prisoner transfer accident.
Elizabeth watched as Nathan averted his eyes from her and sat down with Allie across from where she, Jack and Lucas were. She stared at him for about five seconds more, and noticed how his body went rigid when the last newcomer closed the church door. She quickly looked away when the Pastor began his message: an epistle to thank mother's everywhere.
Why hasn't anyone thanked me? Am I that bad? Elizabeth tentatively shook her chestnut curls. I have to stop pitying myself.
Just as the Pastor commenced his closing remarks and prayer, Elizabeth stole a sideways glance at Nathan. She now wondered how it would feel to lace her slender fingers through his dark, thick hair. She thought of how he might look while chopping wood- hair mussed, blown in the wind, red serge missing, only his undershirt and trouser straps creating a barrier between obvious muscle. Elizabeth assumed he was strong since he was a Mountie- though it was confirmed when she pressed her body up against his in the warm embrace. Each swing of the axe would be a blessing to mankind. Elizabeth blushed bright red, and silently chided herself for having such mental images. Lost in thought, she inadvertently stared at Nathan- and he subsequently felt like someone was watching him, so he turned his head and caught Elizabeth's gaze. They locked eyes for a moment and Nathan began to smile coyly, tilting his head.
Embarrassed, Elizabeth swiveled her head forward as she felt her face heating up. She started to recite a prayer under her breath to keep her mind and stomach from reeling. But what she didn't notice was the hurt look on Nathan's face as to why she turned away so abruptly.
Witnessing the entire exchange between the two, Lucas acquired a resentful grimace. While Elizabeth was intently focused on the preaching, he leaned back in his seat to make eye contact with Nathan. Lucas demonstrated a smug look as if to say, 'Hey, even though she was looking at you, I'm sitting with her.' It was a polite smug (if one could call it that), with a demeaning nod, but was a smug look all the same. The Constable's response was to smile grimly, let out a sigh, and look away.
After the service, Elizabeth got up from the wooden bench and lifted little Jack along with her. Curiously, little Jack looked around the almost empty sanctuary, setting his gaze on Lucas. Noticing the shiny pocket watch that peaked from his suit, little Jack struggled to reach for the object. He let out a whimper as Lucas moved away from the wooden rows.
"Well, Elizabeth, it has been a pleasure," Lucas said to her, "but I really should get going. The saloon calls!"
Elizabeth gave Lucas a tight-lipped grin and headed out the structure. The sudden absence of the sun made the air brisk as she descended down to the ground, unaccompanied.