"Thomas, it was one thing to consider the remote possibility the Bouchard girl might somehow be alive. Given the crime scene and our evidence, it was doubtful – but I was willing to entertain what these Redcoats had to say. But for the Captain of my busiest district to embrace some fanciful tale that she somehow escaped and happened to wind up in Western Canada – precisely where she has family…preposterous!"

Bill and Nathan looked at one another as Martyn's superior entered the Queen of Hearts with the Captain. Neither needed to verbally express their first impressions of Claude Fontaine.

"With all due respect, sir, I didn't say she escaped. She was taken by Drake and his family."

"Solomon Drake? The man who after he was fired from the Mint for stealing, was arrested in your district for beating one of Madam Gautier's girls half to death? That man?"

Martyn remained silent.

"You somehow expect me to believe THAT man took pity on a five-year-old girl and raised her as his own? Are you listening to yourself? Have you been drinking?"

"Sir!"

"That's exactly what he did," Nathan said, standing to greet the Superintendent. "And he eventually wound up here in Hope Valley."

Fontaine crossed his arms. "And you are?"

"Constable Nathan Grant, Royal Canadian Moun…"

"A constable?" Fontaine interrupted. "Isn't that just a bit above cadet?"

Grant narrowed his eyes as Martyn looked toward the floor.

"Where is your superior? Is he around?" Fontaine said, looking around the saloon.

Bill rose from his chair and stood beside Nathan. "Hello."

"Good day. Are you the man in charge?" Fontaine asked.

"No, Nathan is," Bill replied.

"I see. Well, I suppose you don't need much in a little town like this. Deputy Superintendent Claude Fontaine, New Orleans Police. And you are?"

"Judge Bill Avery," Bill said, introducing himself. "And Constable Grant is one of the finest men the Mounties have."

"I'm sure he is," Claude answered, unimpressed. "So, which one of you has been filling my Captain's head full of ghost stories?"

"Ghost stories?" Bill asked.

"About Jenny Bouchard. I'm not sure what kind of bunkum got you men believing she's alive, but I can assure you, that girl was murdered over a quarter of a century ago. I stood at the crime scene and held her bloody clothes in my hands."

"You're wrong. Jenny Bouchard is alive," Nathan said. "I saw her myself, and her brother positively identified her in a photograph."

Claude chuckled. "Don't you mean her cousin?" Fontaine said, reaching into his jacket for a cigar. "Ever since they brought that lying little mongrel into the house, he was nothing but trouble. Why, do you know the beast bit me? Simply for trying to have a conversation! Just goes to show you, you should never trust an orphan."

Nathan's jaw tightened, and Bill squeezed his shoulder.

"So, what is this place? A bordello?" Fontaine continued, lighting his cigar and looking toward the stairs.

"We have no bordellos in Hope Valley, nor will we ever have," Lucas replied, entering the room with a half-smile, Elizabeth at his side. "Lucas Bouchard, owner of the Queen of Hearts."

Fontaine turned toward Lucas and stared. "Ah, Lucas. My. You do look like your mother's family."

Lucas narrowed his eyes. "Have we met?"

"In a manner of speaking," he stuck out his hand and grabbed Elizabeth's, kissing her fingers.

Elizabeth pulled her hand away and moved behind Lucas, who interlaced his fingers with hers.

Fontaine smirked. "Deputy Superintendent– "

"Fontaine?" Martin Bouchard said, standing at the top of the stairs with Helen, who was coming to join Elizabeth while the men took off on another search.

Lucas tilted his head, immediately recalling that he was the man at the party.

Claude looked toward the Bouchards and smiled, nodding at Helen. "It's been a long time."

"What in the devil are you doing here?!" the elder Bouchard said, marching down the stairs followed by Helen, who barely kept up.

"Mr. Fontaine is apparently the captain's supervisor," Bill said.

"No, apparently about it. I'm here to help with the investigation into Hank Drake, whose court documents I've sent two thousand miles at your request. I understand that someone has led you to believe that Drake's brother didn't kill your daughter but that she's still alive?"

"My sister is alive," Lucas said, stepping forward and pulling the photograph out of his pocket. He handed it to Fontaine. "This is her and her children."

Claude examined the item. The resemblance to Helen was unmistakable. He was speechless.

"And she was here in Hope Valley just yesterday," Nathan said. "We were just about to go looking for her again. We're going to scour the woods until we find her."

"Um….perhaps I can help," Fontaine responded, his voice not nearly as boisterous as before.

"Never," Martin Bouchard replied with a low growl.

"Martin!" Helen scolded.

"Don't try to defend him, Helen. You know very well that our daughter's case went cold all due to this incompetent's failure to pursue her kidnapper. If he had done his job and acted on things from the start…."

"You know resources were scarce," Fontaine said. "The entire police force was diverted to dealing with the aftermath of Chief Hennessy's assassination and the killing of those Dagos by the mob."

"Is that so?" Martin replied. "Or did you deliberately allow the man you thought killed my daughter to go free because she was my daughter and not yours?"

"Oh, good grief," Lucas said, beginning to pace. Elizabeth put a calming hand on his shoulder, and he returned to her side. He lowered his head, rubbing his neck.

"Martin. Don't you dare let past jealousies get in the way of finding our daughter," Helen responded.

"Don't Martin me, Helen! You know very well that this man tried everything he could, including challenging me to a duel because he could not accept the fact that we were together. As far as I'm concerned, he is partially to blame for why we lost Jenny."

"You're being unfair," Helen replied.

Lucas stepped forward. "Whatever did or did not happen thirty years ago is not important. What's important is finding Jenny. We only have a few hours before sundown, so may I suggest, please, lay your differences aside – all of you…" he said, specifically looking at his parents. "And do what's best for her."

Martin and Helen looked toward each other, and then the elder Bouchard looked at Fontaine. "Agree. But Nathan Grant is leading this charge, and our helpers from New Orleans will follow his orders."

Fontaine smiled stiltedly. "Of course." Martyn looked at his boss.

"Good," Nathan said. "Let's meet outside and break into teams. Mr. Bouchard, how about you, Lucas, and Thomas go with me? Bill, let's have you and the Superintendent meet up with Lee and Joseph."

"Sounds good," Avery stated. "Mr. Fontaine, you'll be needing a horse. I assume you know how to ride?"

Fontaine nodded. "Of course."

"Very well, follow me."


From the kitchen, Lydia heard Jenny pull up in the wagon and glanced out to ensure it was her before wiping wet hands on a towel and going outside.

"Luke!" Jenny called out. The kids quickly ran around the house and toward the barn where she had stopped. They had been playing for a while but were eager to begin their assigned chore of unloading the hay from their mother's wagon.

"I wanna help!"

Jo always thought she was as big as Luke, but with her small size, she was only in the way with this particular chore, so Luke threw down a bale and sat her on top, telling her she was in charge of telling them where to put everything. The girl happily settled into her new role and began pointing and giving orders as she continuously kicked the hay bale with the backs of her heels.

Lydia had noticed long ago how Luke always seemed to know how to manage the strong-willed child, even being a child himself. She knew that one day, he would make a wonderful father of his own children as he had the patience of a saint.

Normally, Jenny would be amused hearing her daughter bossing everyone around, but today, she was subdued and quiet. Lydia watched her expression out of the corner of her eye, noticing that Jenny's lips were in a tight line and her eyes had a panicked expression to them. Not wanting to ask what was wrong with the children around, she waited until they were finished.

"Good job, Jo," Lydia said. "You were an excellent supervisor. And Luke, you are getting stronger every day. Now, if the two of you will go find me some wild onions to go in my soup for supper tonight, I would be most appreciative."

"Come on, Jo! I know where the biggest ones are!"

Lydia smiled as she watched them run off, wondering where all that energy came from before remembering that she used to run when she was young, too. When they were out of earshot, she looked back at Jenny, noticing her eyes were full of tears.

"This looks like a pot's worth of tea conversation. Let's go inside; they will be gone for a while."

Jenny's nod was silent as she followed Lydia into the house and sat at the table, watching the older woman heat a pot of water. After she poured them each a cup, she chatted as they steeped their tea, but Jenny remained quiet. Finally, Lydia took a sip and set her cup back on the table.

"Okay, girl. Let's have it."

Jenny took a couple of drinks of her beverage and cleared her throat of the lump that had settled there. Then she met Lydia's gaze. "I went to Hope Valley today, as you know." Lydia's nod was enough to propel her forward. "When I went the other day, Nan, I... couldn't explain this feeling of contentment that I felt when I was there - a feeling like I've never had before. Today, I figured out why."

The lump returned to her throat, and Nan reached over to touch her arm. "Whatever it is, tell me."

"Nan... my brother Lucas is there. He lives in Hope Valley... He..." She couldn't hold the tears in any longer as they rolled down her cheeks, and she quickly wiped them away.

Lydia couldn't have been more surprised if she tried. "Your brother... lives here?" This was certainly not the news she was expecting to hear.

"Yes. I almost called out to him, oh, Nan, he is so handsome! And has a girlfriend- or wife, I'm not sure, and they look so happy together! He was so close, Nan! I wanted to talk to him and put my arms around him... I wanted to hear him say my name and comfort me. I wanted to wrap him in my arms... but I couldn't..."

Lydia noticed her expression change from sadness to fear and wondered why. Something else must have happened. But she didn't interrupt, only waited to hear the rest.

"Nan. Lucas wasn't the only person I saw in Hope Valley. I... saw... him..."

It was something in the way she said the word 'him' that Lydia responded to. Her eyes widened. "You mean...?"

"Yes. The man from the wagon that wanted me killed when I was young. Him. He was there in town."

Nan stood and began pacing. Should they run again? Where would they go this time? "We need to pack. If he is here, this close, he must know you're alive."

"No, Nan. I'm not running anymore."

"You're not thinking clearly, Jen. Think of the children. We need to get far away from here."

"NO, Nan. My brother! Lucas is here! I haven't seen him in 30 years! I don't want to run anymore, Nan; I want to see him! I HAVE to see him! Please help me figure out how to do that." Her voice cracked. "I know he will keep me safe."

Lydia saw the pain in her eyes and knew that Jenny was finished hiding out. There was no use in trying to pack them up to leave because the girl wasn't going. Sitting back down, she took a drink of her tea and reached out to take Jenny's hand.

She didn't know how yet, but together, they would devise a way to get her to Lucas and keep her safe from a dangerous man.


"It's a little nippy in these parts, isn't it?" Fontaine said, buttoning his coat as he and Joseph crested the hilltop. At his suggestion, the team of four had temporarily split up to take two opposite sides of one hill.

"I imagine it feels that way to a Southerner," Canfield replied, watching as the Louisianan pulled his jacket tighter. "But it's actually a bit warmer than usual."

"Really?"

"Yes. Around this time of year, it's around ten degrees."

"That cold?!" Fontaine replied, shocked.

"That's Celsius. About fifty, according to the U.S. way of doing things."

"I see," Fontaine replied. "Are you from the U.S.?"

"Yes, sir," Joseph replied. "We're from St. Louis, but I was born in Kansas City."

"Do you have any children?"

"Yes, sir. Two. Angela and Coop."

"Americans as well?"

"Yes, sir. Born in St. Louis."

"Children have always interested me. Of course, I never married, so I've always had to live vicariously through the children of others."

"You always been from Louisiana?"

Fontaine nodded. "Yes. Terrebonne Parish. My grandpappy owned a sugar plantation there until General Butler came to town, and then we moved to the city. I was ten at the time."

"Is that so?" Joseph asked, unsure of what to say.

"Yes, we made plenty of money off those Secesh after we moved. Guess you could say we made well comin' and goin'." He looked at Joseph and smacked him on the leg. "Don't worry, boy. The Fontaines left all that behind when the Yankees came to town."

Canfield smiled stiltedly but said no more.


"Well, another unfortunate dead end," Martin said as his horse descended the hill to join the others. "Where to next?"

Nathan looked down the main trail and nodded toward a turnoff. "Up there, to the left. There are three more paths we can go down before we have to call it a day."

"Who knew there were so many," Lucas said.

"The Siksika used to pass through here on a regular basis, hunting game, sometimes fighting neighboring tribes. These woods are well worn," Nathan said.

"And yet, still wild," Thomas noted. "It's beautiful territory."

"That it is," Grant responded. "Hopefully it stays that way."

"Do you think we should split up?" Lucas asked. "Cover more territory?"

Nathan looked toward the sky. "No. Let's stay together. Given its springtime, the Grizzlies are beginning to come out looking for food."

"Oh, my," Martin said. "And my grandchildren were out wandering by themselves?"

"They've grown up in the territory, Father. I'm sure they know how to stay safe," Lucas replied.

"Still…"

Lucas smiled at his father's worry. He had seen their ingenuity in creating their trap and was certain they could care for themselves, as their mother had apparently done.

The group arrived at a fork where there were three paths to go down. They looked to Nathan for direction.

"This one," he said, choosing the path to the right that looked somewhat more well-traveled than the others.

"How do you decide which way to go?" Thomas asked.

Nathan tilted his head back and forth. "They left Pleasant Orchard in a wagon. The center trail was too narrow to carry them, so I went with the one closest to the stream."

"I see," he replied. "Too bad there are no tracks."

"Or a trail of rocks," Lucas responded.

Each of the men turned toward him with curiosity, and he smiled. "When we were children, we both loved to read Brothers Grimm Fairy Tales, although I suppose they were rather morbid in retrospect. But we would act out the roles when we would play. She'd play Little Red Cap, and I'd play the wolf, or she was Cinderella, and I was the prince who came and put the slipper on her foot. Actually, my sister was the first girl I ever danced with."

He looked toward Grant, who was staring at him with one eyebrow raised. "It wasn't like that! I think I was six. What year did we take Jenny to see Grand-père in Bordeaux, Father?"

Martin thought. "You have a good memory, son. It was the Spring of 1890."

"I thought so. But nobody had a memory like Jenny. Eidetic in many ways."

"Yes," Martin agreed.

"Anyway, where was I? Oh, the point I was getting to was we loved the Brothers Grimm, and she loved to play Hansel and Gretel, pretending Aunt Amelie was the witch."

Martin chuckled. "Dear, old Amelie. My uncle Edouard's second wife. Cranky old hen."

"Exactly. And we would go out into the woods, and I would leave a trail of white rocks so that we could find our way home."

XXXXX

"Hansel, where is father? It's getting dark," Jenny said, looking around in an animated fashion in the woodland just outside Edouard Bouchard's home in La Brède, France, ten kilometers south of Martin's father's home in Bordeaux.

"I'm sure he will be back to fetch us, Gretel," Lucas replied. "Let's see if we can find some more wood for the fire."

"I'm getting hungry, and our wicked stepmother only gave us a piece of bread to eat. What if he forgot about us? What if there are wolves to come eat us or witches?"

"Nothing will harm us," Lucas responded. "I've left a trail of shiny white stones that will lead us home."

"You did?" she said, cupping her face with her hands. "You're so smart!"

Lucas looked at her, pointed to his eyes with his middle and index finger, and smiled. "Do not fear. I will always take care of you."

Jenny threw her arms around Lucas's waist, hugged him, and then quickly turned around. "Let's go try to find some pinecones!"

XXXXX

The younger Bouchard sniffled and smiled. "She was something else."

Martin leaned over and patted his shoulder. "That she was and still is! Although I'm surprised with the castle nearby that she didn't have you playing Rapunzel or Snow White."

"Or Robin Hood," Nathan said.

Lucas grinned. "Too competitive. She would beat me at archery."

"At six years old?" Nathan asked.

Lucas closed one eye. "Four and a half?"

Martin nodded.

"Whatever I did, she had to do," Lucas said.

"And vice versa," his father responded.

"Yes. But…." Lucas said, raising one finger. "I drew the line at ballet. Could you imagine me in tights?!" Then he shuddered.

Nathan and Thomas looked at one another and smirked as they rode along.


"…And that's when my grandma Sassy…."

"Your grandmother was named Sassy?" Joseph asked as he and Claude descended the hill.

"Yes? Is there a problem?" Fontaine responded, pursing his lips.

"No, sir," Joseph replied, turning his head toward the road and sighing in relief at seeing Bill after what had been an enlightening trip through the woods with the esteemed Deputy Superintendent. "Hello, fellas!" Canfield said, quickly extricating himself from the southerner's presence and making his way to the judge.

"Hello, Joseph," Bill replied. "Fontaine. Did you all find anything?"

Fontaine shook his head. "Not unless you count finding a nest of squirrels and a couple of Canadian geese that were fit to be tied when we got too close to their young'ns."

Bill nodded. "We struck out, too."

Lee shrugged. "But, hey. We eliminated about six more pathways. We're getting closer."

"I suppose that's one way of looking at it," a frustrated Avery responded.

"What now?" Claude asked.

Bill looked toward the sky. "Night will be falling soon. I suppose we should head back and start again in the morning."

The men all nodded. As they returned to town, Fontaine saddled up beside Avery while Joseph and Lee took the rear. True to form, the Superintendent had his share of opinion to give to the town's chief adjudicator.

"Now, whenever we're on a manhunt in New Orleans, the first thing we'll do is find who among the locals knows the area the best. They'll be the most likely to recognize if something is off. Joseph here is a fine man, but he's not a local, having only moved here a few years back. What you really need is a local man. A veteran of these woods."

Fontaine blathered on, and Lee couldn't help but notice the normally positive Canfield seemed withdrawn.

"Everything okay?" Coulter asked.

Joseph stared at him, then nodded. "Everything's fine. After spending the afternoon with him, I think I'm ready to go home and do something uplifting… like read the book of Job."


The song 'Til We Meet Again played softly throughout the saloon as Helen Bouchard sat enjoying her tea. It was a special brew Gustave made for her, and as she sipped it, she couldn't stop thinking about the last several days and all that had transpired. While it was true that they had never found a body, throughout the years, Helen had steadfastly refused to yield to wishful hopes and dreams that Jenny might still be alive. And yet, those wishful hopes were reality. The dream had come true!

She took another sip and wondered what kind of young lady her daughter had become. She was certainly beautiful and looked strong – stronger than Helen herself had been, to her great regret. Helen suddenly realized her tea had grown tepid and reached for the small pot that was left on the table to freshen it up. There was nothing like tea to calm excited nerves.

Elizabeth hovered over her for a while after the men left, but finally Helen had sent her on her way so she could have time to think. Raising her cup, she breathed in the sweet, steamy cloud that rose from the top before once again taking a drink. She was so engrossed in her thoughts that she didn't hear the footsteps as they approached the table.

"Helen?" the voice said, causing her to turn in its direction. Glancing up, she saw Claude standing beside her chair. His appearance was much like she remembered, though a bit older, not classically handsome, but somewhat attractive in a rugged sort of way. At her look, he slightly smiled, not wanting to give away the palpitating of his heart at the sight of his Helen up close – up close and alone.

"Claude, please tell me you found my daughter."

He had hoped for a smile but received a worried look instead. No matter.

"Please, have a seat," she added.

Fontaine's heart jumped inside as he casually pulled out a chair and joined her. "Regrettably, no. But I fear that small-town Constable and other fellows do not know how to run a proper search. If I was in charge, your daughter would be sharing this table with you as we speak. Sadly, I am unfamiliar with the area."

His gaze took in her beauty; the years had been kind to her. Perhaps a little compassion was in order. "How are you holding up, my dear?" he asked.

Finally, he got the slight smile he had been waiting for. "You have always been on my side, Claude. Thank you. I am about how you would expect me to be with all that is occurring."

"Hopefully, it will be over soon," he replied. His voice was soft and soothing. Helen relaxed as she listened to him speak. "You have been through too much and still look as beautiful as the day we met. Why, I believe you must have discovered that fountain of youth everyone has been searching for. It isn't nice of you to keep that all to yourself, you know."

The laugh came right on cue as Fontaine's smooth-talking hit its mark. "You always were the flatterer, Claude."

"It is not flattery, my dear," Claude said, raising his hand. "Only the truth, Helen - so, help me God. You've always been the prettiest girl in the room – smartest too – and the sweetest." Her mood had lightened in his presence, only confirming his certainty that she should have married him long ago. She was too good for Bouchard. Maybe it wasn't too late, but he had to be subtle.

"Oh, Claude. I never thought I'd ever see my daughter again," she said, her eyes whelming up with emotion. "Knowing she's alive has been the most wonderous dream imaginable. We just can't lose her again."

"I will do everything I can to find Jenny. You can count on it." The consoling words were followed by only a slight hesitation before he reached over and gently placed his large, ruddy hand on top of her warm, soft one. He couldn't believe it when she turned her hand under his and slightly gripped his palm.

"Thank you, Claude," she responded, leaving their hands clasped together as she looked into his eyes.

At that moment, she was unaware that her husband and son had just entered the saloon. Martin inhaled sharply, stopping in his place when he saw the display, and Lucas's heart sank. The two men stood there for but a moment before the younger reached over and placed his hand on the elder's back. "Come on, father. Let's go to my office and talk. We mustn't allow distractions to keep us from the task at hand."


Later that evening, Fontaine and his chief Captain met privately in the former's hotel room for a debriefing and to share their thoughts on what steps should be taken as the investigation began. Both were dissatisfied with the progress that had been made, though Martyn was much more positive concerning the competency of his escorts.

"Constable Grant is as good of a lawman as you will find; his instincts are sharp."

"Not sharp enough," Fontaine replied. "Nor are those of that Judge Avery. That man may have been good at what he does at one point in time, but years sitting on the bench seem to have softened him. They aren't hungry enough, not willing to try everything."

"Such as?" Martyn asked.

"Dogs. I suggested they gather some bloodhounds from their central command…."

"Sir, the woman is not a criminal. Hearing hound dogs from afar will only scare her away."

Fontaine's jaw tightened. "And I suppose you have a better idea?"

"I do," Thomas replied. "Draw her out."

"Draw her out?"

"The girl's family is here. Use them and their name to our advantage. Bouchard said his sister has a remarkable memory. Surely, she has not forgotten her family. Throw their name out there. Advertise."

Fontaine chuckled. "So, you believe putting out a newspaper ad saying 'Jenny Bouchard: Come out wherever you are' is going to do this?"

Martyn shook his head. "No, sir. The girl is obviously hiding for a reason. We can't be that obvious. We need to provide her the opportunity, safety, and anonymity to come out. Give her enough to entice her."

"What are you thinking?"

"A ball. A masquerade ball, such as the one we held last year with the New Orleans Police Association, only this one will be for the Bouchards. The Bouchard boy is getting married. It can be his celebration – his and his fiancée's. Use their image, their name – put it in the newspapers locally and in neighboring towns – an extravaganza. Nail flyers to the trees. She has animals to feed, and the children have already seen his face. Somehow, the information will get to her, I am certain. And when it does, curiosity alone will not be able to keep her away. Of that, I am certain."

Fontaine considered the man's words for a moment.

After his silence lingered too long, Martyn spoke up. "What do you think, sir?"

Claude looked at him unsmilingly. "It's a stupid idea."

"Sir?"

"If that girl is hiding, there is no way she's going to come out – curiosity or not. Bloodhounds are our only way."

"But, sir…."

"Are you daring to question me, Lieutenant?"

"Captain, sir."

"And contradict me as well," Fontaine said. "Of course, you're correct – but I could be as well if you don't show respect. Do you catch my drift?"

"Yes, sir."

"Yes, who?" Fontaine asked.

Martyn inhaled. "Yes, Superintendent."

Claude's eyes crinkled as he reached for a cigar. "That's better. Now go pack."

Thomas furrowed his brow. "Sir?"

"You're going home. There's no sense in two of us being all the way up in this god-forsaken territory."

"Sir, you put me on special assignment to –"

"And I'm taking you off special assignment."

"But sir…."

Fontaine raised his eyebrows. "Do I sense insubordination?"

Martyn grew quiet. "No, sir."

"I didn't think so. Now go pack. I want you ready to take the first transport out of here in the morning and be back on assignment in a few days. New Orleans won't run itself."

Martyn nodded. "Yes, sir." He stepped out of the room and looked back toward the door with a raised eyebrow. He shook his head. The Deputy-Superintendent was a fool.

Meanwhile, Fontaine lit up his cigar and sat at the small desk in his suite, pulling out the newspaper clipping of Helen and Jenny and the rose he'd kept for so long in his office. Laying both down, he placed the rose over Jenny's face so that there was only Helen. Beautiful Helen. He'd have her yet and give her the life she deserved – and Martin Bouchard or his ragamuffin son couldn't stop him. Victory was just in sight.


Early the next morning, Thomas Martyn walked out of the Queen of Hearts and carried his bags to the taxi stand. From there, he'd be transported to the train station at Union City, where a New Orleans-bound train would leave later that afternoon. While he waited, Lee Coulter made his way into town, parking his car in front of his business. Seeing Martyn, Coulter made his way across the street.

"Good morning. Going somewhere?"

Martyn nodded. "Home. Superintendent Fontaine wishes for me to return to my post to see to issues in my district."

Coulter frowned. "That's strange. Seems awfully sudden."

Martyn shook his head. "I'm afraid it's typical of Mr. Fontaine. He does what he wants to do to get what he wants. I guess that's why he rose so quickly through the ranks."

Lee nodded. "I can't help but notice that you speak more formally to him than you do in normal conversation. Is there a reason for that?"

Thomas looked away. "He demands it. In some ways, I think he does so to achieve respect he has not earned." He turned his eyes toward Lee. "But you didn't hear that from me," he smiled. "Good luck in your search, Mr. Coulter. I believe my chariot awaits."

As Martyn climbed into the taxi, Lee watched the Captain quizzically, then turned toward his office.


"Okay, here are today's assignments," Nathan said, passing out maps to all the men who had gathered, which were more than the previous day. "Henry, you go with Bill and Lucas's father down Locust Grove Lane. I want you to take the southern trail toward Mill Creek. There are several paths along that way. Superintendent Fontaine, you can come with me and Lucas."

"Alright."

"Is, um….is Thomas coming?" Nathan asked, looking around the room.

Fontaine shook his head no. "He was called back to New Orleans on some pressing business and sent his regrets for not being able to join us."

"Pressing business?" Joseph asked.

"Yes. Police business – the kind I can't discuss."

Joseph twisted his jaw.

"That came on awfully sudden, didn't it?" Lucas asked.

"It did. But such are the ways of life. Where are we going to Constable?" Fontained asked.


"Mama, can Luke and I go fishing again?" Jo asked as she stood there with a pole in hand, excited for another adventure.

"Not today, baby," Jenny replied. "I need you to stay close to home."

"But, mama…."

"I need you here, Josephine!" Jenny said, louder than normal. Her hands trembled as she folded laundry, and Lydia observed every moment. "Now go to the chicken coop and fetch us some eggs."

"Yes, mama," a disappointed Jo replied. She stepped out onto the porch where Luke was waiting. "Mama says we can't go. But I'll race you to the coop!"

Jenny closed her eyes and sighed. She felt sick inside that the man who had tried to kill her was within a short ride of where she was staying. Her first inclination was to run. But she couldn't, not when she'd seen Lucas. Her love for him would compel her to stay.

"You know, Jackson Falls is only eighty miles away from here. We could be there in a few days," Lydia said, walking up beside her.

Jenny shook her head. "I'm through running. I told you that. Of course…if you're concerned, I won't hold it against y-…." Jenny gasped as thoughts began to swirl within her mind. Her eyes flitted back and forth, and slowly, she started shaking her head. "That's it. That's it."

"What's it?" Lydia asked, tilting her head. "Talk to me, girl. What are you thinking?"

"It's the only way." Jenny raised her face toward her foster mother, a look of determination mixed with emotional pain reflecting in her eyes. "Nan, you need to go."

"Go? What? Where?" Lydia asked.

"You need to pack up and leave. Get away from Hope Valley."

"Jenny! No. There's no way I'm leaving you and the children…."

"Take them with you," Jenny said.

"What!" Lydia gasped.

"It's the only way. Take them to Jackson Falls and protect them. You'll all be safe there. I remember where the cabin is. I'll join you as soon as I'm able."

"Jenny!"

"I must find my way to Lucas. I've got to get to him. He'll keep me safe, Nan! He'll make it so that we can all be safe. I know he will. He was a little boy before, but he's big and strong now. He will see to it that we're protected."

"This is foolish talk!"

"No, Nan! It's not. With Luke and Jo in your care, I don't have to worry about what's happening with them. We can't keep on like this. My children deserve a life. I lost my entire childhood being on the run, never having friends, never being able to socialize. I won't live his way, and I won't allow them to live this way. I want to live life. I want to be free. I want us all to be free. We can't do this anymore. But to have that freedom, that bad man must be brought to justice. Lucas can help me. I know he can!"

Lydia was shaken but had seen that look before in Jenny's eyes and knew she would not be dissuaded.

"Are you sure it was the same man?" Lydia asked.

"I am positive. When Paps and Hank brought him to me, he knew who I was. I will never forget that face as long as I live. Who knows who else he hurt? I must do what it takes to ensure he can't hurt any of us again, but I can't do it alone. My brother will help us. I know he will. Please don't quarrel. Just take my children and go. I will come to you as soon as I can."


The search party returned to Hope Valley sometime around noontime, forced to turn back after torrential rain began to fall throughout the area. And although they had covered several miles before having to turn back, it was just as well for Nathan's team since two of the team members, Claude and Lucas, seemed to be at odds with one another before they left the stable. Finally, at the Queen of Hearts, Grant ordered a beer for himself and a shot of scotch for his housemate.

"You need to calm down," he told Bouchard, watching as the angry businessman downed his drink and leaned against the bar with arms crossed, watching Fontaine's every move.

"I apologize for my behavior," he finally said. "But that man is after my mother and has been for several decades. He wouldn't stop talking about her."

Nathan looked over at the Superintendent. "Is that why you bit him?"

Lucas's eyes darted toward Nathan, and he pursed his lips. "So, I am told. I was very young."

Grant nodded. "Well, after spending the morning listening to him blather on, I would say you had a point."

Bouchard furrowed his eyebrows. "What do you mean?"

Nathan shrugged. "I'm just saying, if you wanted to bite him again, I might just look the other way."

At that, Lucas let out a genuine laugh, and Nathan patted him on the shoulder. "Hang in there, Lucas. We'll be rid of him soon enough."


"So, tell me again why Thomas had to go?" Bill asked Claude as the two dried off beside the cast iron stove.

"Pressing business," Fontaine replied. "Things are much busier in New Orleans than this little place. And, since I'm here now, I felt it best to allow him to return."

"Was it for that reason?" Martin Bouchard said, stepping up beside them. "Or was it so you could try to take all the credit as you always did and appear the hero to my wife?"

"Martin!" Helen's voice echoed through the restaurant, causing Lucas to immediately make his way to his parents' side.

"Don't you see what he's doing, Helen? He's like a vulture swooping in for his prey!"

"I am not," Fontaine said in mock offense. "I'm only here to help!"

"You should be ashamed of yourself, Martin Bouchard, acting like some jealous schoolboy. Claude is only here to help us."

"By holding your hand?" Martin asked.

"Well!" Helen rolled her eyes.

"Your accusations are not becoming of a gentleman," Fontaine said. "I demand an apology."

"Oh! Bugger off!"

"Martin!" Helen shrieked.

"Father, I think maybe you'd better come with me," Lucas said, turning his father toward the bar.

"Wait right there, young man," Fontaine interjected. "I've just spent the better part of two days using my time and effort to find a needle in a haystack, and one would think there might be a little gratitude. But I suppose it is never to be. Still, in these moments, I am willing to lay hostilities aside if he is. After all, Jenny is what is important. Is she not?"

"Of course," Lucas said, tapping his father on the arm and receiving his affirmation as well.

"Very well. So, I was thinking. Since we aren't getting very far in this search, it might be time to switch tactics."

"Switch tactics?" Grant asked. "What do you mean?"

"Change our approach. We've been trying to find Jenny for these many hours. I propose setting it up to where she'll want to find us."

"What are you thinking?" Helen asked.

"Lure her out. Give her something irresistible that she won't be able to resist, something associated with her family's name. A masquerade ball. An extravaganza. We could advertise in every paper and nail a flyer to every tree. She'd be bound to see it sooner or later."

"An actual ball?" Helen asked. "I haven't attended one of those in years."

"Yes. I recall how much that little girl loved to dress up," Claude said as Martin clenched his jaw. "We could even use your names – perhaps in coordination with a celebration of young Lucas and Elizabeth's wedding."

"It might work," Joseph said.

"Yes, it is an idea," Nathan replied.

"What do you think, Father?" Lucas asked.

Martin frowned but then nodded. "I suppose."

"I could gather the ladies together to plan it," Helen replied. "I'm sure Mrs. Coulter would be happy to contribute."

"Happy?" Lee said. "She'd be ecstatic."

"So, it's on! The Bouchard Masquerade Ball – a Celebration of Love and a time for new beginnings," Claude replied, looking over toward Helen, who smiled, unbothered by Martin's withering gaze.


"Yes, I'd like to speak with Lieutenant Cantrell," Thomas Martyn said, standing at the train station watching a deluge fall to the ground. "Yes, Lieutenant. This is Martyn. I'm doing well. Hey, I just wanted to let you know that I will be staying a while longer in Canada. Yes. Something came up. It's not something I can talk about, but something's not right, and I need to attend to it. If someone asks, I'm out on a case. I'll get back with them as soon as I can…..what? Yes. That's fine. I appreciate it. Oh, and Cantrell, if Fontaine should call, tell him I'm busy and will have to get back with him. Thank you," Martyn said before stepping away from the phone.

He next walked over to the ticket counter.

"Can I help you, sir?" the clerk asked.

Thomas nodded. "Yes. I'd like to turn in my ticket. I won't be traveling home today."

Handing in the ticket, he turned back toward the area where taxi cabs were waiting for their passengers. "Well, Mr. Fontaine, this is one time I can't follow orders."