Authors' Note:

It has been said that to write a good story, you must first take your protagonist and plunge them into trouble as quickly as possible. Well, it seems our Lucas is definitely in trouble and needs us all to stay with him as he travels through this valley of tears. The next few chapters will be dark, but we promise there is light ahead. Thank you for embarking on this journey with us. Your support and reviews are of immeasurable importance to us as writers and help keep us going. Though some of this material is admittedly dark, it is our goal as writers to give you the best story we can so that when it is concluded, you'll be happy that you read it in the end. Feel free to drop us a line, and don't forget to Favorite and Follow us if you like this work.

We look forward to hearing from you. J&S.



It took an hour for Lee to find Minnie and then to alert Elizabeth about what had happened, and by the time they reached the infirmary, the situation had changed quite a bit. When Elizabeth entered the building, Nathan was present and stationed next to the bedside of a sleeping Lucas, who was confined to the bed using canvas restraints.

"Lucas?" an alarmed Elizabeth said, rushing to his side. "Why is he tied up that way? What is happening? Nathan?!"

Nathan stood. "Listen, I had to. When he got over here, he started acting up and…."

"Untie him this instant! Lucas is not a common criminal!"

Faith stood and walked over to her, placing her hands on Elizabeth's shoulders, leading her toward the door. "Step over here for a moment."

"No!" Thornton said, pulling away from Dr. Carter and going to the bed. She began to untie him.

Nathan stepped forward and pulled her away. "Elizabeth, listen to me! Lucas just killed a man!"

She looked at him with exasperation but turned back toward the bed, so Grant continued talking. "Now, I know that's something the Lucas we know would never do, but he just snapped, and he became a different person."

"When he got to the infirmary, he nearly came off the stretcher and started becoming aggressive again," Faith added. "We had to restrain him. We had no other choice."

"Elizabeth…." Nathan said, pulling her away a second time. "Listen! I'm afraid he could be a danger to others or even himself in this state. Lucas isn't Lucas. At least not right now."

A distraught Elizabeth slowly shook her head and stopped resisting, so Nathan let her go. She moved closer to her fiancé and caressed his cheek. Lying there, he was a picture of peace - the opposite of the man that had been described to her – a man she couldn't even imagine. She ran her fingers through his hair, brushing an errant strand away from his face.

"I've given him something to sedate him," Faith said softly. "We'll see how he acts when he wakes up. Maybe then we can remove the restraints."

Elizabeth nodded and then took a seat after Nathan gave her his chair.

"Evidently, Lucas had some history with this guy, and it wasn't good," Nathan said, pulling up another chair at the foot of Lucas's bed. "Bill thinks he recognized the man and is over at the Mountie office combing through books to see if he's wanted. I'm sure there's an explanation."

"What's going to happen to him?" Elizabeth asked, her eyes not leaving the man she loved.

"It's hard to say," Grant replied. "Let's just take things one step at a time. We'll see how it goes."

Around one that afternoon, Lucas regained consciousness. This time, he was calm yet only slightly more aware of his surroundings. They removed the heavier restraints, but Nathan stayed vigilant, remaining at the infirmary for as long as it took to ensure the situation was in hand.

Lucas remained silent, his eyes staring at Elizabeth with an expression that said there was something he wanted desperately to tell her, but the words wouldn't come. Her heart broke to see him in that condition, but she determined she would remain a calming influence, supporting him however he needed her to, however, she could.

At two-thirty, Florence patched a phone call from Lucas's parents to the infirmary. They had planned to rest in Bellingham overnight, but when they were told what had happened with the man, they made immediate arrangements with the local transport to travel overnight. If all went well, they would arrive in the early morning hours.

While Elizabeth was talking to them, Bill entered the infirmary with papers in hand. He carried them over to Nathan.

"I knew I recognized him," he said. "He was wanted in connection with a murder and kidnapping in Hamilton seventeen years ago."

"The Morrisseys," Elizabeth said, walking into the room. "I knew them."

"Had you ever seen this man?" Bill asked, handing her the wanted poster.

Elizabeth took it and studied it closely. "No, I never saw him. Is this the man that Lucas…?"

"Yes," Bill said. "Went by Saul Marwood, sometimes Saul Black. I understand he broke into the family home and killed the butler?"

"Yes," Elizabeth said. "He then took their little girl, Charity. He took her for ransom, but…."

"He took her." Lucas's voice surprised them since he had been silent for quite some time.

Elizabeth turned toward him, reaching out her hand to comfort him. "What was that, darling?"

Lucas looked toward her, his eyes glistening with tears. "He took her. He took her. I tried to stop him. I tried."

Nathan and Bill gathered closer.

"Who did he take, Lucas?" Nathan asked.

Lucas continued staring at Elizabeth. "She was only six. I tried to stop him. Why?"

"Who, darling? Who did he take?"

Lucas shook his head and withdrew from her, tugging on his blanket, curling his knees toward his chest, and shaking his head. "I tried to stop him. I did. Please understand, mother. I tried to stop him. I tried. I tried."

Later that evening, Gustave Pepin stopped by to visit, bringing with him a light, brothy soup and some French bread for everyone to eat. Elizabeth offered some to Lucas by holding the spoon to his lips, but he didn't partake. He was once again silent, once again in a different world.

While the rest of them ate, Nathan thought he'd ask Pepin a few questions. "Say, Gustave. You guys are cousins, right?"

"Oui," Lucas's chef replied.

"So, you must have spent a lot of time together. Have you ever seen this guy?" Nathan asked, holding up the photograph.

Gustave shook his head. "Well, Lucas and I are second cousins – so, spending time together, not so much."

"Really? I just thought…"

"No. Our grandfathers were brothers. When the Bouchards traveled through Europe, they often stayed with Grand-père Auguste at his manor in Bordeaux. I believe that is where Lucas became educated concerning wine.

My father, Georges, and Helen Bouchard were very close as children, and when Mon père passed away, she always tried to help our family in any way she could. I have always believed that her influence caused Lucas to offer me the position at the Queen of Hearts, though he assured me that it was because of my culinary skills."

"Ah. So, you don't know much about their lives in North America?"

"No. The Bouchards were always….as you say, secretive. And my parents taught us it was a sin to pry. So, we never asked. What is in the past is in the past."

"Until it isn't," Nathan said, scratching his jaw.

Elizabeth left Lucas's side only briefly, returning to her rowhouse for a change of clothes and making arrangements with the Coulters to watch her son for the next few days. At almost five years of age, Jack was too young to understand what was happening, especially since the adults didn't understand it themselves. So, they told him nothing, choosing instead to explain that Mama needed to spend time with a friend for a day or two and would be back as quickly as possible. Jack loved spending time with Auntie Rosemary and Uncle Lee, so he gleefully accepted that explanation, hugged his mother, and went to play, oblivious to the turmoil swirling within her heart.

"Let us know if you need us to take care of him longer," Rosemary said, holding her hand.

"Thank you both," Elizabeth said, then she returned to town. As she was walking, she worried about how long she could protect her son's innocent mind from the truth. Then she worried about what the truth actually was. One of the key things that connected her with Lucas was how much they instinctively knew each other. Without being told, they could sense what the other was thinking. But now, she wondered if that part of their relationship had been a lie. Clearly, he had been holding onto secrets that he hadn't shared with even her – secrets serious enough to kill over. She became fearful that she hadn't really known him at all.

Arriving back at the infirmary around eight o'clock, she was gratified to see him sitting up.

"Lucas?"

He continued to stare straight ahead, so Elizabeth looked over toward Faith.

"He sat up a few minutes after you left, and he's been like that ever since. He hasn't said anything else."

Elizabeth nodded sadly, then walked over and sat on the edge of his bed, reaching out and touching the side of his face. "Darling, I'm back."

She turned his face toward her so that he was facing her, capturing his gaze. He studied her face for a moment, then lifted his hand to her cheek, touching her. She covered his hand with her own, then kissed his palm.

"Don't be sad," he said softly. "My Elizabeth should never be sad."

Elizabeth smiled tenderly even while her heart ached inside. Was he even aware of what had happened?

A few minutes later, Nathan stood to leave. Things were much calmer, and Lucas showed no signs of further disturbance, so he picked up his things and walked toward the door. "Call me if anything happens," he told Faith. "Call me if you need anything."

"I think he'll be okay for tonight," she replied. "I called a friend in Union City who specializes in psychosis. He said he would travel in tomorrow to evaluate him – that is if he can stay in the infirmary and not go to jail."

"No! You can't put him in jail!" Elizabeth said, alarmed.

"I have no intention of locking Lucas up," Nathan said. "The longer I'm around him, the more I'm convinced this was no malicious act. It'll be up to us to prove that to a judge. And to do that, we need to understand what happened."

Elizabeth's look of concern remained, but she nodded her head.

"Hey, do you trust me?" Nathan asked.

She shook her head yes. She did trust him.

Nathan smiled. "Good. The three of us have been through too much together to let it end like this. I'm going to do everything I can to make sure he gets the help he needs. We're on the same side here, and we want the same things."

This brought a genuine smile to Elizabeth's lips. After all, they had experienced, Nathan was still their friend and still had their back. This brought her comfort.

The rest of the evening was peaceful. Faith went upstairs to a small room she kept during times when patients had to stay overnight, and Elizabeth curled up on top of the sheets next to Lucas. At some point, she found herself with most of his blanket. He'd apparently awakened and saw to her need. She looked up at him and thought at once this was the most beautiful man she'd ever seen. He appeared angelic when he slept. No. She wasn't wrong about him. Her Lucas was still there. Quietly, she snuggled into his side, resting her head on his chest and allowing the gentle rhythm of his heart to lull her back to sleep.

Nathan arose early the next day and headed toward the stables to prepare his faithful horse, Newton, for their morning rounds. With the rest of the town still needing his services, he decided to go through his usual routine before stopping by the infirmary to see how things were going there – knowing that activity would likely absorb the greater part of the morning. But plans changed when he spotted a 1919 Duesenberg Model A driving up the street. He immediately knew the Bouchards had arrived.

Grant dismounted and then tipped his hat toward Lucas's mother as they pulled into town. Helen immediately got out of the vehicle, making her way toward the Mountie before Lucas's father could be introduced.

"Where is he? I certainly hope you don't have my son locked up in some dirty jail cell," she said, looking down the street toward the Mountie office.

"Woman! Get ahold of yourself! You are still talking to an officer of the law," said the man exiting the vehicle.

Given Helen's small stature, Nathan expected Lucas's father to be a tall bear of a man but was surprised when an average-sized man with greying hair and a ruddy complexion came to join them. Helen clenched her jaw and turned away as the man stuck out his hand. "Martin Bouchard. You must be Constable Grant," he said, looking around the town for the first time. Nathan returned the handshake but continued studying the parents, still wondering from whom Lucas got his looks. Helen must dye her hair, was all he could figure, and his height must come from a grandparent.

"I apologize for my wife's outburst. She's been a little high-strung ever since we heard about this misunderstanding with our son."

"Misunderstanding?" Grant asked.

"Why yes," the man replied. "Anyone who knows Lucas knows he'd never hurt a fly unless in self-defense. Come now, show me where we must bail him out. I have an attorney arriving this afternoon."

Mr. and Mrs. Bouchard turned toward the Mountie office, expecting Grant to follow, but stopped when they heard his voice.

"Um….Mr. Bouchard, Helen…."

The couple turned.

"He's not at the jail. He's over there, in the infirmary," Nathan said, motioning with his head.

Helen and Martin looked toward one another with confusion, then back at Nathan.

"Is Lucas injured?" Helen asked.

"Uh, no, ma'am. At least not physically."

"I'm afraid I don't understand," she said.

"Sir. Ma'am. Would you please follow me?"

Martin and Helen entered the infirmary and were led toward where their son rested. Once again, Lucas was sitting up. This time, Elizabeth was feeding him a bite of Danish that Minnie had brought over a few minutes earlier, fresh out of the oven in preparation for their morning customers.

Nathan looked toward Faith with surprise. "Is he….?"

Faith returned a half smile and shook her head. "No. I'm afraid not. He's eating, which is an improvement. But he still doesn't seem to comprehend what has happened."

"Doesn't seem to comprehend?" Martin said, stepping forward. He looked toward Nathan. "Would someone care to explain to us what is going on?"

Nathan looked at Faith and then the Bouchards. "Dr. Carter, this is Lucas's father, Martin Bouchard, and I believe you've met his mother, Helen?"

Helen stepped forward. "Of course. You were the one who looked after my son after the unfortunate oil well explosion. I believe you were seeing Dr. Shepherd?"

Carter cleared her throat before nodding her head. "Not really seeing him," she replied. "but not really not. I'm not entirely sure how you would classify our relationship. In any case, he's moved on," she said, briefly glancing at Grant. "Right now, I'm more interested in treating your son. It appears he is suffering from a form of acute psychosis. According to witnesses, it began without warning yesterday at the Queen of Hearts when he attacked a man without provocation. Since then, his condition has varied. Initially, he was catatonic, essentially unresponsive. But we've seen a little improvement over the last hour or so.

"I see," Martin replied, his troubled visage betraying his calm demeanor. "And this must be Elizabeth?"

Elizabeth set the Danish down on a plate before standing up. She leaned down and kissed Lucas's forehead, and he furrowed his brow as she whispered that she'd be right back. It was the only indication of conscious understanding that he gave.

Elizabeth walked over to the couple and immediately hugged Helen, holding her longer than Lucas's mother had expected, communicating the direness of the situation without words. She then looked over at Lucas's father. "Hello, Mr. Bouchard. I'm so happy to finally meet you."

"Please, it's Martin. And I'm so happy to finally meet the woman who captured our son's heart. You are even lovelier than he described." Martin lifted her hand so as to kiss it, but when he saw Elizabeth's eyes began to whelm, he embraced her instead. She began to sob. "Now, now, dear. Don't cry. It'll be alright. Lucas will be fine. He's a strong boy. He will come back to us."

Nathan stepped forward after giving them a few moments to comfort one another. "Sir, I hate to interrupt, but has Lucas ever become violent before? Has he ever just snapped?"

Elizabeth stepped back so that Martin could answer.

"Never," Bouchard replied. "As I said before, my son wouldn't hurt a fly unless it was in self-defense or to protect someone he loved."

Nathan considered the statement and then posed a follow-up question. "Has there ever been a time, that you know of, that he wanted to protect someone but couldn't? Perhaps a time when someone was hurting someone he cared about, and he couldn't stop them?"

With that, Martin's expression grew stiff. "I….not that we can speak of. May I go and see my son?"

Grant narrowed his eyes, then looked toward Elizabeth, who had also noticed the shift.

They followed the Bouchards to Lucas's side and watched as Helen and Martin tried to make contact.

"Lucas? Lucas, dear, we're here. Mother and Father are here," Helen said.

Lucas didn't respond at first, other than to straighten up and look down toward the covers. When Helen persisted in trying to get him to look at them, he suddenly became quite agitated. Scooting away from them in the bed, he again pulled his knees toward his chest. Elizabeth immediately intervened.

"Step away, you're upsetting him," she said.

"Step away? I'm his mother!"

"I didn't mean to. I tried. I tried," Lucas said, beginning to rock again.

"He didn't mean to what?" Helen asked.

"I tried. I tried to stop him." Lucas answered.

Martin looked helplessly toward Nathan and shrugged. "Stop who?"

The Mountie stepped forward, pulling a folded piece of paper from his jacket. "We think a guy named Saul Marwood. Sometimes goes by the name of Saul Black. Have you ever seen him?"

Martin took the paper from Nathan's hand and reached into his own vest pocket to retrieve his glasses. "This is the man he supposedly killed?" he asked before looking at the page.

"Yes, sir."

Bouchard focused his eyes on the sheet, and suddenly he went pale. "Good Heaven!" he said, dropping the paper onto the floor.

"Martin, what is it?" Helen said as Bouchard's knees became weak, and he stumbled.

"Woe! Are you okay?" Nathan asked, reaching out an arm to steady him. Martin took a couple of moments to regain composure, and when he did, his anguished eyes turned toward his son. "That poor child."

"Martin?" Helen asked her arm around him, rubbing circles on his back.

Martin Bouchard looked sternly toward the scrap on the floor, then nodded his head once with a sense of resolution. He bent down to pick it up. "Yes, Constable Grant, I recognize the man." He then turned toward Helen. "But we knew him as Solomon Drake."

"Drake?!" Helen gasped. She took a step backward, her face registering shock. "No! It can't be!"

"It is. It's him," Martin said, immediately echoed by Lucas's voice once again repeating the same words.

"It's him, it's him, it's him."

Elizabeth rushed to Lucas's side, seeing he was becoming unsettled. She wrapped her arms around him. "Shhh….darling, it's okay. Shhh…."

"It can't be him. It's been too many years. He can't be here! Not in Hope Valley!" Helen said, beginning to pace.

"See for yourself," Martin said, reaching out to her with the wanted poster.

She looked at his hand but refused to look at the paper, batting it away.

"We need to go home!" she said. "We need to leave!"

"Helen!"

"We've got to go home. We swore we'd never speak of this again. You promised!"

"And I've kept that promise, and so has Lucas. For years that boy has carried the full load of our sorrow on his shoulders as the two of us pretended that she didn't even exist!"

"No!" Helen said, beginning to cry.

"But she did exist, Helen, and he had to pretend she didn't for our sake. Because we forced him to. He was the one who was closest to her at the time, and he didn't have anyone to talk to because we were too wrapped up in our own sorrow. Don't you see the calamity this has wrought?" he said, motioning with his arm toward their son.

"I tried to stop him. I tried." Lucas said, his voice growing louder and his body still rocking, even though he was being held in Elizabeth's arms.

"No," Helen sobbed. "We've got to leave."

"Sweetheart," Martin said, coming over to hold her. "It's time to stop running and to face the truth."

"I can't. It's too hard," she said, leaning into his breast.

Martin hugged her closely. "You've got to. Helen, listen to me. Our son is in trouble. He was strong for us. It's time for us to be strong for him."

Lucas's mother wept as he cradled her closer. "Helen" he continued, "we can't lose our son too."

"Too?" a startled Elizabeth asked. "Martin, who did you lose?"

Lucas's father looked at the woman holding his son with a doleful expression.

"Please, Martin, no," Helen whimpered.

"Sweetheart, I must. It's time," he replied as his wife wept.

"We lost our daughter," he continued. "She was only six years old at the time. And our son has borne the grief of what happened to Jenny for too long."