Tap tap tap tap tap. …… Tap tap tap tap tap. …. Tap tap tap tap tap.
Nathan looked up from his paperwork at the sound, rubbed the back of his neck, and sighed. It was worth taking a break anyway and finding out what all this racket was about.
Grabbing his Stetson from the peg on the door, Nathan rolled his shoulders back and stepped out onto the boardwalk. It was no surprise that the source of the nuisance was none other than Lucas Bouchard.
He held a hammer awkwardly in one hand and a stack of papers in the other. The man seemed to be papering every pole in town.
Nathan sighed and began to step in the saloon owner's direction when he caught his name being called by the only voice in town that made his heart skip a beat.
Nathan turned—surprised to find Bill approaching down the boardwalk with fire in his eyes and determination in his step. Several steps behind him still on the road approached the brunette that had occupied both his thoughts and dreams. She waved, calling Nathan's name again.
He waved back with a deep blush staining his cheeks. Bill reached him first.
"I'm gonna guess that goofy smile wasn't for me." Bill eyed Nathan with amusement. "Bouchard is papering the whole town. Do you think we can find any littering ordinances on the books?"
The corner of Nathan's lip turned up into a smile—though he fought the reaction and maintained professional composure. "That's kind of your department Bill, but let me know what you need me to enforce."
Bill huffed in annoyance. "That guy is always making more work for me."
The conversation was cut short by Elizabeth approaching. "Hi Nathan. Hi Bill. Beautiful day today." Elizabeth twirled her empty basket awkwardly, making chit-chat from the bottom of the stairs.
"It looks like rain is coming." Bill grumbled, always the optimist.
Elizabeth rocked back on her heels and made a perfect 'O with her lips. "Well…I thought the scones were delicious this morning, Bill. They reminded me of Abigail's."
"I'm glad. They're her recipe..." His tone was flat as he continued to eye Lucas, hammering more posters along the boardwalk. "Excuse me. I've got to get back to my office."
They watched him go as he hustled down the boardwalk at a brisk walk back to his office—his eyes remaining on the saloon owner. "Bill seems to be in a chipper mood," Elizabeth quipped dryly once he was out of earshot.
A smile broke loose across Nathan's lips. "Chipper, eh? You might be the first to describe him that way." Nathan's eyes twinkled with amusement, looking down at her. "Can I help you with something, Lizbeth?"
Elizabeth's eyes flared, and she glanced at her feet before getting lost again looking up into Nathan's crystal blue eyes. "Oh. Um…I…just wanted to…well…"
Nathan's brow crinkled in amused confusion at her stammering.
"Elizabeth! Oh, there you are. I was hoping I would catch you. You must come to the banquet tomorrow." Lucas stepped smoothly up to her at the stairs forcing her to turn from Nathan to acknowledge him.
His well-manicured fingers drummed against the hammer handle looking just as out of place as his three-piece suit in a frontier town.
"Banquet?" Elizabeth's brow arched in question.
"Yes. A European-style dinner with old world flair. I'm setting up tables both inside and outside the Queen of Hearts so diners can eat al fresco. It'll be like the boulangeries of southern France or the trattorias of Rome." He placed his paper-filled hand on her back turning her slightly further as he gestured with his hammer casting his vision—the hammer being more believable as a stage prop than an honest tool in his soft hands.
Nathan leaned against the pole on the boardwalk, fighting an eye roll as Lucas drolled on.
"The people of this town will taste real culture…the finest of what Europe has to offer without ever having to leave Hope Valley." His voice was smooth as silk, disguising the insult of his words.
Nathan cleared his throat in irritation, "Dinner, you said? What time does it start, Lucas?" He peered at the closest flyer for more information, but found nothing for an event start time.
"Don't you know when dinner is, Constable?" Lucas glared over Elizabeth's shoulder at the man in red, though his tone came across as deceptively light-hearted. Elizabeth giggled uncomfortably.
"Well, Lucas, this seems like a wonderful thing for you to do for the community," Elizabeth stated diplomatically.
Turning back towards the teacher, Lucas's sneer transformed into a grandiose smile. "Oh, I care very much about the community. I have always tried to make a difference everywhere that I go. In fact, a portion of the profits from the banquet are going to fund more books for the library."
"Oh Lucas, that is very generous of you!" Elizabeth smiled warmly at him.
"Since when has he been so invested in education?…" Nathan murmured.
Lucas heard it and placed his paper-filled hand on Elizabeth's back—leading her further into the street and away from the distraction and logic of their local Constable.
"You seem surprised, Elizabeth. I did donate the library after all. I care very much about the education and fluency in this town. I feel I'm fully invested." Lucas continued to swing the hammer about with his other hand as he verbally painted the picture he wanted Elizabeth to see.
"Oh. Well… thank you, Lucas. I'll spread the word about the banquet." Elizabeth stated graciously as she stiffened under his touch.
"And I'll see you tomorrow?" Lucas questioned, leaning closer to Elizabeth, causing her to shrink back slightly.
"Yes….I'll be there." She gave an uneasy half smile, before her eyes darted for an excuse to leave. "Florence!" She raised her hand, waving towards the woman, and stopping her in her tracks. "Excuse me, Lucas, I need to speak with Florence before I leave town. Thank you for the invitation."
She hardly looked at Lucas before she turned and hurried across the street to catch a surprised Florence. Lucas smiled like he held the winning hand within his grasp. Turning back towards the Constable, he narrowed his eyes at Nathan, waving his flyer-filled hand at the man to scurry along. Then, he returned triumphantly to plastering posters against the nearest pole.
Rather than turn back towards the jail, Nathan turned towards Bill's office—suddenly interested in the judge's research into local ordinances.
————-
A new day dawned in the valley, and the whole town was abuzz with anticipation for the promised European banquet. Townswomen used the occasion to pull out their fanciest apparel. The formal atmosphere for the frontier town led to a festival-like celebration starting even in the morning hours.
Lucas was thrilled to see so many in town latching onto his vision for the night. It appeared he was successfully transforming this droll small town into its highest capabilities as a polished destination for even the highest of society. A place where a diamond—like William Thatcher's daughter—could truly shine. She would make a fine escort hanging on his arm and on his every word.
If he could just shake that pesky Constable and the judge, then not only would he have the girl, but the business he truly desired. He could quit wasting time in this backward town and get back to really living. This abiding by the law and imitating a reformed gambler turned model-citizen charade was growing old by the minute.
One thing he liked about Elizabeth was that they had a similar vision—they both recognized that these people were uneducated and poor. With her money and his wisdom, they could make a lot of changes around here. There was money to be made. With the lady mayor gone, his influence over the town was already increasing. If he could control Elizabeth, the rest of the townsfolk were likely pawns that would follow suit.
Lucas returned to his table in the saloon and continued rolling cloth napkins around the silverware. He was enjoying the enticing aroma of the slow cooked meats simmering in their sauces. Gustave had just put the last of the beef and vegetables into the oven when Lucas heard voices and knocking at the saloon door.
Irritated with the interruption, he rose from his chair and approached the door. Before even opening it, his voice could be heard muttering, barely disguising his aggravation. "We're CLOSED. We are preparing for the banquet tonight so come back….later."
Lucas opened the door to find not only Rosemary knocking, but the entire town of Hope Valley dressed to the nines…and hungry. Lucas's mouth dropped open slightly before his eyebrow twitched, and his eyes narrowed, "What's the meaning of all this?!" He stepped between the open door and the hungry patrons—wedging himself effectively in the opening.
"The meaning of this? Lucas, you invited the whole town for dinner, and you're telling me you're closed?!" Rosemary shifted her weight in exasperation, her arms folding just under the v-neck of her rose pink taffeta dress. Her hand held a matching feathered fan that was rhythmically tapping her forearm as she waited for his response with a quizzical brow.
"It's only 12:30…." Lucas protested, increasing his grip on the door.
"Exactly! We've been waiting for thirty minutes, and you're completely missing the dinner hour!" Rosemary rolled her eyes with a satisfied pout.
All of the color drained from Lucas's smug face. Dinner hour. A dozen conversations over the past year suddenly came flooding back, and in each one the evening meal was referred to as supper. What a fool! He admonished himself.
Outwardly, he stood taller, smoothed his suit, and plastered on a disingenuous grin. He raised his voice theatrically, "Welcome everyone to the banquet!" He stepped back ushering townsfolk into the saloon. "Please be seated wherever you like, and I'll come around with the menu." Lucas held the door wide, stepping to the side. Though he smiled broadly, his forehead broke out into a cold sweat, and he braced his fingers against the door to slow their shaking.
With people sitting both inside and outside the saloon at tables, Lucas turned and bowed out towards the kitchen—his smile instantly dissolving into a look of terror. Throwing open the kitchen door, he found Gustave diligently chopping vegetables and preparing the evening's side dishes while humming a French melody.
"GUSTAVE!!" Lucas admonished, making the cook jump in alarm, dropping his knife on the cutting board.
"Lucas! Don't scare me with a knife! What is wrong?" Though he asked the question, he resumed cutting the carrots into thin sticks for roasting.
"WHAT IS WRONG?!' EVERYTHING IS WRONG! PEOPLE ARE HERE FOR DINNER! THEY'RE READY TO EAT NOW!" Lucas was pacing throughout the kitchen, ranting and raving, but not furthering the cooking process in any way.
Gustave froze and looked up with a look of exasperation. "Why would they be here now? What time did you tell them to come?"
Lucas's eyes flared in recognition. "Well…the formal lettering didn't leave room for a set time on the flyer so I just said 'dinner hour'…"
Gustave turned a deep shade of red as he slammed the knife down on the cutting board. "Lucas, tu es un idiot! Vous ne leur avez pas donné de temps?!" Gustave threw his hands up disgust, completely forgoing English and resorting to giving him a tongue-lashing in French.
"Well I thought 'dinner hour' was clear enough…" Lucas tried.
"DINNER IN CANADA IS AT NOON!"
"Ok…ok…you're right, but we need to fix this. I have a hundred hungry patrons out there right now that I have to feed. What can you make?"
"NO! No. No. No. No. No. I have beef bourguignon ready in FIVE hours. Confit de canard SIX more hours. Cassoulet TWO more hours."
"Gustave, you don't understand…I have to feed them now."
"NO you don't understand! My name, my dishes, your mistake is not my problem!"
Lucas gasped in surprise at his usually complacent and level-headed chef. "Gustave I have to feed them. What can you do?"
Gustave shook his head quietly, cussing under his breath in French. "If I cut up my roasting meats they are YOUR recipe and not mine. You will tell every table."
Lucas blanched and swallowed, feeling backed into a corner. This was not how he foresaw this banquet going. This was supposed to be his pièce de résistance that would surely bend Elizabeth's affections in his direction. Without a chef, his house of cards was bound to crumble. Knowing when to fold, Lucas nodded somberly at Gustave, accepting his terms.
The chef dropped his head and sighed before pulling his cassoulet from the oven. Without looking at Lucas, he gritted his teeth and pulled a filet knife from the knife block. He quickly cut the chicken into small chunks and threaded them through metal skewers. After completing a dozen, he glanced up at Lucas who was still fidgeting in the doorway.
"Allons-y! Go! Your guests are waiting!" Gustave angrily waved the knife in his direction, effectively shooing him out the door.
Turning towards the faces in the saloon, all eyes were suddenly on him as he swallowed and stepped forward. Without any waitstaff scheduled until tonight, Lucas picked up a damp bar cloth from the edge of the bar and draped it casually over his suit-covered arm. He approached the first table and took drink orders.
He found himself hustling from table to table, relaying the new menu, while also pouring and delivering drinks. The saloon was packed both inside and out, and there was hardly an open seat anywhere. After taking the Campbell family's orders, Lucas turned and spotted through the window Nathan in a suit and loosely knotted tie, pulling out a chair for Elizabeth and then for his niece Allie.
Little Jack Thornton sat smiling up at the town's Mountie like he had hung the moon. Jack was sitting with his legs swinging back and forth under the table sitting between his mother and Allie—leaving Elizabeth sitting at Nathan's side. They looked so much like a family that Lucas sputtered and coughed in disgust—which turned several heads within the saloon in his direction.
He reached into his pocket and wiped his mouth with a silk handkerchief, before turning again to the nearest table. With one swipe, his scowl transformed into a phony grin to relay the new menu and take orders. He cast one more glance at the Grant's table before scurrying off to the bar to fill drinks.
With all other tables cared for, he exited the building and stood at last at the Grant and Thornton table. "Welcome to the banquet Elizabeth and Jack, Miss Grant…Constable. I'm glad to see that you were able to find seats. Can I interest you in any beverages?"
Nathan glanced over at Elizabeth, signaling effectively that she should order first.
"Jack and I will have water." She nodded discreetly to Nathan.
"Allie and I will have waters too. Thank you, Lucas."
"Don't mention it…" Lucas muttered under his breath, turning on his heel. Rage curled from his toes up his legs with each step as he fought an all-out stomp to the bar to retrieve the drinks.
Rather than find his pitcher on the bar top where he remembered leaving it, the pitcher was nowhere to be found. Instead, dozens of voices began calling to him as the only waiter. Lucas waved nervously before he stormed off in the direction of the kitchen.
Throwing open the swinging doors more forcefully than necessary, Lucas caught the harrowing glare of his chef maniacally slicing apart his beef bourguignon and aggressively threading the meat onto skewers. Gustave's eyes followed his every move—as if daring his boss to release the barely veiled tantrum he stomped back into the kitchen with.
Instead, Lucas scowled as he rifled through the bottom cabinets in search of another pitcher. After several seconds of clanging pans while Lucas fruitlessly searched, Gustave thundered behind him, "What are you doing to my kitchen?!"
That was the last straw. "YOUR kitchen?!" Lucas boomed, "I'm the one paying the bills around here. Without me, you would still be a line cook in Châtelleraut!" The jagged line of a blue vein bulged from Lucas's neck as he spat the words at his stunned employee.
Gustave's face hardened, "You won't make it ONE DAY without me!" The chef pointed the tip of his knife in his boss's direction punctuating each word, as his chest heaved with each breath. A look of satisfaction crossed his face as he announced, "And the teacher wants nothing to do with you. Her eyes are always on the Constable!"
Lucas's eyes darkened from shock to menacing pleasure as his lip curled into an overly confident sneer. "She'll bend. I'll have her right where I want her, and I'll…"
"You'll what?"
Lucas froze at the icy sound of Elizabeth's voice. His mind reeled, searching for a way out—some phrase to twist this into a misunderstanding. But there was nothing.
Her heeled shoes approached behind him echoing his impeding judgement like the final tick tock before the dynamite. Lucas stiffened, and schooled his features as he turned towards her with patronizing gentleness. "Elizabeth, I…"
"Save it. I heard it all. And to think I came in here feeling sorry for you and to offer you help! It was all some ruse to win my hand like some stupid gamble...wasn't it?! I am not a prize to be won! I thought you were better than that."
She turned on her heel and stormed out of the kitchen leaving him in a wake of devastation, but it wasn't so much heartbreak as the raw feeling of being stripped bare. All of his layers of vanity and deceit that he wrapped up as mystery surrounding himself instead lay tattered among the scattered pans. There he stood a disgraced liar.
An amused huff from behind him—as his chef resumed his chopping—barely registered in his mind. He approached the swinging door cautiously, and peered down the hallway at her retreating heels.
At the end of the bar, stood the Constable and his daughter both clad in his staff's aprons. The man's face was colored with concern as he set the tray back on the bar top and opened his arms to a now sobbing Elizabeth. In front of the whole town, he held her—rubbing soothing circles on her back.
Lucas could tell when she relayed his words from the kitchen as the lawman's eyes hardened and finally glanced up at him, practically nailing him to the doorway. Lucas slunk back to kitchen, keeping his back to his chef, and ignoring his protests as he slipped out the back door. It seemed like a great time for a drive. And maybe a new life. Hope Valley had suddenly lost its charm like all the places before.
A/N:
Special thanks to @missela who sparked the inspiration for this story months ago when I asked what the evening meal was called in Canadian culture. (It's SUPPER, Lucas!) It made for a great faux-pas that I hope you're all happy with.
Thanks also to Eoin MacLean who answers dozens of Mountie questions for me on the regular. That, "eh?" from Nathan at the beginning of the chapter was dedicated to you!
As always, thanks to @nebula2 & @k8esunbug for beta-reading for me! That one-liner at the end about Hope Valley losing its charm is thanks to Lynn who always manages to end each chapter with a zinger.