What comforts you at night when the darkness has wrung all the light from the day? Henry's question kept repeating in Lucas's head over and over again. It was just like Henry to give a morsel of sage advice and the next minute drive off, leaving Lucas alone to try and decipher its greater meaning.

Turning around from where the road dust still rose from his friend's departing automobile, Lucas started back towards his office in the Queen of Hearts. Drawing closer and closer to his office, the thought of being cooped up inside did not seem appealing. So instead of turning to open his office door and step inside, Lucas kept walking straight down the short passageway, past the kitchen with its delicious aromas wafting through the air as Gustav muttered in French, past his staff that was working quietly and contentedly, past it all till he reached the back door. Lucas grasped the handle and pushed it open, walking out into the crisp October air.

Outside, Lucas lifted his head heavenward and closed his eyes. Taking some deep breaths of the robust autumn air, Lucas tried to calm his tumultuous thoughts.

What does comfort me? He pondered. Up till a week ago, Lucas would have said that it was Elizabeth Thornton who brought him comfort. Whether thinking of her or being in her presence had never ceased to bring a smile to his face and a soothing balm to his wanderlust heart. But things had taken a turn for the unknown between them and now thinking of Elizabeth brought another crease to his already knit brow.

The muted sounds from Main street descended upon Lucas as he stood with the saloon at his back and the open countryside in front of him. He opened his eyes and noted the tranquil clouds softly gathering but continuing to float along...their destination somewhere else. Of their own volition, his feet started on a path away from town. Some quiet solitude would help him process his questions and solidify his answers.

Perhaps he should have set Elizabeth free sooner. He knew they had been on the path to something wonderful earlier that summer when they had had their first date. They'd had several more warm and "cozy" moments as the weeks passed, but ever since Nathan's relation to Jack's fateful assignment to Fort Clay had been revealed she had been struggling in a sea of confusion and disillusionment. Lucas had not been blind to how she was suffering, questioning everything, and dealing with her husband's death all over again. He had thought that standing by and being patient would help her, that maybe she would want support from those who loved and treasured her. But lately, Elizabeth had been closing herself off a bit more every day from those around her. Lucas had certainly noticed a chill between Elizabeth and her best friend Rosemary Coulter at Ned and Florence's wedding. He had tried to show Elizabeth in both word and deed that he only wanted to support her in whatever way she was comfortable with.

Lucas tried to find some comfort that at least Elizabeth had been able to speak with Nathan to let him know where she stood with him. She told me she loves me. She's just not in love with me. Nathan's words from the previous night reverberated through Lucas's brain. Did Nathan realize how lucky he was to at least know that Elizabeth loved him in some way...even though it was, and would only be, a platonic sort of love. Lucas had felt no victory, no elation at Nathan's news.

At the moment, I'm not sure what she and I might actually share. Lucas's response had not been just to soften the blow the Mountie was sure to be feeling, Lucas honestly did not know how Elizabeth viewed him nor how she truly felt. He knew without a shadow of a doubt that he loved her, but was it meant to be an unrequited love?

He had gone about a mile when he came to a copse of trees. Maybe it would have been better if I'd never come to Hope Valley. Lucas would never go as far as wishing he had never been born. Despite the disappointments and heartache he had experienced in his thirty years, he still held to the belief that life was precious and every day was a gift. Maybe some paths in life weren't meant to be taken. Perhaps he shouldn't have stayed as long as he had in Hope Valley. He wound his way carefully through the trees, keeping his eyes down on his steps as the small forest seemed to be closing in around him. It was entirely possible that Elizabeth, Henry, Nathan, Hickam, and others would have been just fine, or even better, without his arrival in town two and a half years earlier.

Brushing the foliage away from his path, Lucas stepped through and into a dense fog. It was so dense he could barely see a few feet in front of him, and the view was no better behind him. He noticed that the forest had abruptly stopped and now he seemed to be in a clearing, ironic since he couldn't see all that "clearly." Without the assistance of a stick as a guide, Lucas made slow progress as he took two steps, paused to look up, then looked back down and took two more steps, and so on. The gloomy atmosphere suited his pensive mood, so Lucas continued as the path descended into a small valley. At the base, Lucas saw that the fog had not permeated this pocket of the valley. Raising his eyes to the view ahead of him, he saw a man sitting by a campfire and a peddler's wagon parked nearby.

"You must have a lot on your mind to have come all this way," the man called out to Lucas. He appeared to be around the age of sixty with gray hair underneath his cap and wide-set sea-blue eyes that had the power to call to Lucas yet also see straight through him. It was hard to describe but Lucas felt a calm about this man when he normally would have felt cautious around strangers. But then again, Lucas had learned to read people quickly and accurately throughout his life.

Lucas approached the man who had stood up from their chair by the fire. The man gestured to the empty chair beside his and then extended the same hand towards Lucas in a friendly greeting.

"As a matter of fact I do. But I do not wish to inconvenience you." Lucas stated the facts simply. He was in the mood for silence, but the honest conversation would do as a consolation prize.

"Nonsense! Sometimes we need to speak of what is weighing our heart down so heavy that we take a stroll through the fog." The man had an aged, yet compassionate voice. A voice that sounded like it held wisdom far above the level for having such humble possessions.

Lucas gave the man's hand a firm shake. "I'm Lucas. Lucas Bouchard."

"Name's Sam. Sam Bailey."