A/N:
Hey faithful readers, this is a drastic change from my normal stories, and I leaned heavily into the supernatural suspense/thriller genre for the first half of this story. No hard feelings if that's not your thing! It should be safe to read after the page break if you want to see the conclusion. The cover for this story should give a pretty good indication of the players involved with no OCs and nothing gory. That said, it is a bit of a hair-raising tale at Lucas's expense. Proceed with caution. Not recommended for young children.
This story is a part of Sunday Night Serge's Heart Stories September challenge #hsbreakup #lucadeath
*All characters are property of Crown Media and are borrowed for entertainment purposes only.*
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Til' Death Do Us Part
"LUCAS! I need help. Get up! Get up! Allons-y!"
Lucas snapped awake and sat up with a start, banging his head against the headboard. He groggily rubbed the back of his skull as he willed his eyes to focus and make sense of the scene before him.
Gustave stood over his bed, waving a metal spatula in the air. A dark mass flitted just beyond his swats, swooping and diving.
A bat.
Who let a bat in here?!
Lucas threw off the covers and stumbled out of bed, instantly regretting his late night bachelor party mere hours before….if you could even call it that. The evening began with his only contacts in town: Henry, Hickam, Gustave, and Fiona. The night quickly dissolved into just Lucas and Gustave alone at the bar after one beer had turned into three, and Fiona had the gall to refuse to dance with him.
His head pounded with regret. He never did have a stomach for bourbon, but it seemed like a cause for celebrating even if the rest of their company chose to leave. Today, he married Elizabeth Thatcher…er Thornton. Nevertheless, she would be Elizabeth Bouchard soon...as it should be.
She was destined for his arm. A ruby in the coal dust of this one-horse town.
The bat swooped, further mussing his normally well-tailored coif.
"Gustave! Get it out of here!"
Help these days. He scowled with a dissatisfied pout.
The chef tottered on the bed rail—still swinging at the winged creature. "Should we call de Constable?!"
That's the last guy we need around here. Rather than answer the question, Lucas stomped to the window, threw open the silk curtains and opened the sash, stepping back.
Within seconds, the bat swooped again and headed right out the window into the misty morning. Sheepishly, Gustave descended from the bed, cowering a bit under his boss's glare.
"What time is it?!" Lucas growled.
"Ten-thirty."
"What?! Gustave, why would you let me sleep so late?! The wedding is in an hour!" He whined.
A series of emotions crossed the usually complacent chef's face. His face reddened, and his eyes narrowed. He opened his mouth to speak and was immediately shut down by his boss's next rant.
"Unbelievable! I have to do everything around here!" Lucas stomped to his closet crammed full of suits and paced back and forth in search of his tuxedo.
Uncertain of how to respond, Gustave stood frozen in place, gripping the spatula nervously.
"Get out!" Lucas barked.
The chef scrambled for the stairs and towards freedom.
Lucas turned back to his closet and pulled the tuxedo from the rack. Turning it over once in his hand, the tie was nowhere to be found.
A low growl escaped his lips as his thoughts burned like a wildfire with blame over the inconvenience.
As if summoned by his raging thoughts, the faint sound of footsteps approached his slightly open bedroom door.
"WHERE IS MY TIE, GUSTAVE?!" Lucas growled without turning around. His door creaked, and he whipped around with fury in his eyes over the lack of response.
But there was no one.
Lucas walked to the door to peer down the hall, and it too was empty. The hair raised on the back of his neck as the sound of ceramic breaking and water trickling met his ears.
He snapped his head around to find, inexplicably, his teacup knocked over and broken on the floor with chamomile tea trickling down the nightstand and seeping into the floorboards.
Out of the corner of his eye, he caught a shadow pass by his upstairs window. With wide eyes, he turned ever so slowly to face it, but there was nothing. Just a thick fog that had settled into the valley.
Get a grip. It's just wedding day jitters. Gustave probably knocked the cup to the edge climbing the bed, he reasoned with himself as his heart pounded rapidly in his ears like a drum.
The distinct sound of boots on the floorboard and his name in a ghostly whisper floating just behind him broke through his racing heart, so he did what he did best.
He ran.
He threw the tux, sprinted down the hall without looking back, and tore down the stairs, tripping over himself.
He ran across the saloon and into the kitchen in search of Gustave—and maybe a knife, but the chef was nowhere to be found.
The footsteps returned. A cool breeze passed through the kitchen sending a chill down his spine, though no window was open.
Lucas's eyes grew wide. The phone rang, causing him to jump.
His eyes flitted for a clear path to the back door. He hustled through the kitchen as the phone rang again. He was mere steps from the door, when the wedding cake that was centered on the kitchen counter toppled to the floor in front of him, smashing it to pieces.
The topper of the bride laid face up, still smiling on a bed of icing. The topper of the groom, however, laid prostrate with it's head removed cleanly from its shoulders.
Lucas slid his hand carefully across the countertop, reaching for the butcher's knife. He nearly had it before the blade slid in the opposite direction and into the shadows. The glint of the blade caught his eye mid-air.
Lucas.
Uncertain if it was in his in mind or his ears, Lucas turned tail and ran. He sprinted back through the kitchen door, through the saloon, and out the front door with the sound of broken bottles trailing not far behind him.
He ran out into the foggy street, but there was not a soul around. Feeling the urge to duck, he spotted a dark blur just before it swooped, causing him to scramble for his car. He dove into the front seat, slamming the door behind him. A brown bat knocked into the driver's side window. Undeterred, it began circling and swooping at the car.
Lucas turned over the engine and it roared to life. Finally. He glanced up in relief only to catch in his rear-view mirror what he swore was the shadow of a man in his back seat before he disappeared.
All of the color drained from his face, and he punched the gas hard—regardless of the low-visibility ahead. He raced towards the Mercantile, though it showed no sign of life with darkened windows and closed doors. The town was looking more like an abandoned ghost town.
Though he maxed out the gas pedal and firmly gripped the wheel, the car backfired and swerved right past Coulter Enterprises and onto the service road behind it. Lucas pulled his foot back from the pedal only for it to depress further again, throwing him back into his seat.
The fog passed quickly by his window as if swallowing him up entirely. The car reached top speed as he flew behind the Mountie office—wisps of mist snaking across its hood.
He tried in vain to stomp the brakes, but the car continued. As the road opened up and the town became buried behind, a rider on a black horse appeared through the fog, charging right at him. In a panic, Lucas grabbed the wheel and swerved hard—right into the pond.
Though he braced for impact, his head slammed against the steering wheel at the collision. The crash of water drowned out his pounding heart as the murky depth swallowed the hood. With every second, his car sunk deeper and deeper. Feverishly, he climbed to the back seat, kicked out his back window, and swam to shore.
Gasping for breath, Lucas crawled on hands and knees through the mud and up the embankment. His hair became matted with pond scum and blood as the gash from his eyebrow cascaded down into his ruffled beard.
A horse nickered through the haze. Lucas climbed to his feet and scampered in the direction of the church, looking every bit like a drowned rat.
The slosh of his shoes racing through the grass filled the air with the sound of hooves at a canter not far behind.
A light burned brightly in the church, and Lucas ran towards it—hoping desperately to find sanctuary from this madness. As he climbed the steps two at a time, the haunting sound of a wedding march floated through the wooden doors.
His fingers fumbled with the door handle only to find it locked. He pounded on the door and windows, causing him to catch a glimpse of Elizabeth dressed in white with her hair pinned up in an elegant chignon.
As if in a trance, the world faded away as she reached the end of the aisle and took the hand of their blue-eyed Mountie.
"No!" Lucas screamed into the abyss, but his screams went unanswered. He was frozen to the spot—only able to watch his dream of fame and fortune slip away to a good-for-nothing Mountie.
Anger curled up from his toes, boiling over to rage. Something had to be done. No sooner had his thought took hold, then the icy breath enveloped him—raising the hair on his neck.
Leave. And never return.
The sound hissed quite audibly in his ears. His head snapped around to take in a man in red serge with flickering hazel eyes— piercing through his very soul. A black horse stomped and snorted behind him. The steam from its nostrils created an other-worldly haze surrounding them.
Lucas felt frozen to the steps, and his lungs clamped in fear—daring not even to breathe. The figure leaned in closer. The whites of his eyes glowed as if reflected by the firelight that was entirely absent.
Stopping mere centimeters from the gambler's face, the glowing eyes rounded with menacing mischief and whispered, "BOO!"
Lucas fainted dead away.
The mist encircled him. The organ's playing distorted and then faded away—only to be replaced by the increasing sound of his own heartbeat thundering louder and louder. Lucas felt like he was spinning—like the bat that suddenly swooped down towards him.
He covered his face and rolled to a fetal position only to find himself falling.
SMACK.
Lucas groaned and reached up to soothe his aching head. Cautiously, he opened one eye only to recognize the floorboard of his bedroom stained with drops of fresh blood. His hand was covered in red that had run down from his hairline.
He took a deep breath and sighed, willing his beating heart to slow. It was just a dream. He sat back with a laugh, shaking his head at his wild imagination.
Suddenly, a bat swooped from the dark corner of his bedroom, knocking over the tea cup from his bedside table and shattering it on the floor. Footsteps approached, closing in on his bedroom door.
Lucas screamed.
He scrambled to his feet and covered his face, running through the sound of the approaching footsteps and right past a bewildered Gustave just outside his door—hand still raised to knock.
Lucas stumbled down the stairs faster than his legs could safely carry him. Reaching the bottom landing, he picked up speed at the sound of the phone ringing.
Sprinting across the saloon and out the front doors, Lucas was relieved to find the streets filled with people milling about and the sun brightly shining. Several people paused and gasped at the sight of the disheveled groom still in his silk pajamas with a gaping head wound.
His upstairs window opened—further drawing attention his way. Gustave yelled, "Lucas! Where are you going?!"
All eyes snapped their attention to the underdressed gambler. Their curiosity peaked, however, when a bat flew past Gustave and dove towards his boss. The man shrieked and high-tailed it to his car, slamming the door, and taking off without even looking back.
Curiously, the bat seemed to follow the car all the way to The Mercantile. Lucas swerved around frightened pedestrians—who thankfully heard the man coming with the racket the clanging cans made trailing behind his vehicle. He swerved again just past Coulter Enterprises, but picked up speed as he headed down the road towards the row houses.
He was driving like a bat out of hell when he swerved past the startled Constable and his chestnut horse who were returning from rounds and attempting to flag him down. The sudden motion of the car finally tore free the "Just Married" sign from the car's trunk, landing it squarely in front of Nathan's horse.
The glare he shot the saloon owner would have melted steel, but the car was long gone—leaving only a trail of dust behind him.
—
Not that Nathan would have hesitated to arrest the man on his wedding day, he would have eagerly served justice. Instead, the only thing left to do seemed to be the hardest.
He glanced up the road to Elizabeth's house. She still sat on her front porch stoically drinking tea—seemingly unfazed by her fiancé's hasty exit. In a way, she looked entirely peaceful.
He clutched the sign, mounted his horse, and retraced his steps.
She watched him intently as he dismounted and approached without saying a word.
Nathan held out the sign to Elizabeth, "I believe this is yours."
Her eyes held a hollow gaze as she looked up at him. "Not anymore it's not."
"I…saw Lucas. Is…everything ok?" He asked, fighting the urge to put his arm around her and comfort her.
Elizabeth took a breath and released a pained sigh. "Yes and no. I feel the most ok that I have in a long time…I can't marry him."
Surprised at her answer, he pressed on. "Why not?"
Elizabeth laughed uncomfortably, staring down into her tea. "You wouldn't believe me if I told you."
"Try me."
Elizabeth managed a half-smile and tapped the step next to her, inviting him to sit.
Nathan raised his brow at the offer—inwardly at war with himself over the propriety of being so close to the woman he still loved.
Losing the battle to his desire to comfort her, he sat on the familiar step, laid the sign down beside him, and leaned back on his hands to create some respectful distance.
Uncertain of what to say, Nathan was relieved that Elizabeth spoke first. "I guess I've always known that my relationship with Lucas was just…a charade. I thought it was something I could grow into…but I didn't." She sighed, tilting the tea cup and studying it as she spoke softly. "Then it went on so long that I thought…maybe my chance at love was gone." She looked up at last with a pained look in her eyes.
Nathan's heart wrenched at the sight.
There was silence for a moment before a bat flitted off the eave of her porch, circling above them before flying off. Both Nathan and Elizabeth watched the creature in shock.
Nathan's mouth hung open, "I'll tell you something crazy. I had a dream last night with that bat in it." He pointed in the direction of the retreating bat.
"You did?!" Elizabeth set her teacup down in disbelief.
"Yeah. It was a really vivid…beautiful dream." Though he fought it, he couldn't help but stare deeply into her eyes with the word, 'beautiful.'
Elizabeth smiled with a blush washing over her cheeks—despite the cool air. "Did it involve the church?"
Nathan's eyes enlarged as his face flushed red. "It did."
"Me too."
A lop-sided grin crept across Nathan's lips. He glanced down at her bare left hand and then up into her pale blue eyes sparkling with vulnerability.
"You looked beautiful. Like a dream."
She held his gaze even as she whispered, "It was more than a dream."
Nathan unconsciously leaned forward, closing more of the distance between them, "What do you mean?" He asked with hope shining from his eyes.
Elizabeth broke their gaze, looking down at her bare fingers. "That's what was unbelievable. I had a dream last night where I saw Jack."
Nathan stiffened and sat back rigidly. "Oh….that's great," he spoke softly as his cheeks reddened at his mistake.
Elizabeth rubbed her ring finger—lost in thought, "It was." She smiled at the memory before looking again to Nathan. "He read me his letter…the last one that he left me. The one that told me to find love again."
Nathan's face softened, but he stayed silent as he listened to her sympathetically.
"He walked me to the church and told me he would guard the door. He said that my future was inside."
Elizabeth reached out a hand to cover his, cautiously. "I was afraid to hope."
He glanced down at her hand on his, recognizing the familiar sparks racing up his arm. "So was I, but then the doors opened and there you were..." His head tilted with mischief, flashing his signature grin and a raised brow, "…with a bat. Which was not quite what I was expecting."
Elizabeth laughed, and squeezed his hand, "Me neither."
"So it really was you."
Elizabeth nodded. "It would seem so. Jack walked me down the aisle to you."
"He did?" Nathan asked in disbelief.
Elizabeth nodded, her brow pinched in question, "Couldn't you see him?"
"No. You just came in with a bat. But when the door closed behind you, the bat circled the window, and I saw Lucas pounding at the window, looking like some kind of swamp monster."
A smile crept across Elizabeth's face, "You made that part up!"
"No I swear I saw it…but then none of it mattered because you were so stunning, and… I couldn't take my eyes off of you."
Elizabeth blushed deeper, "You, Nathan, are my future…my lifetime, and like Jack said last night, 'it's time to start living again."
"Lizbeth, are you saying that you finally know what's in your heart?"
Elizabeth nodded. "It's you, Nathan. I'm sorry that it has taken me so long to see it."
Nathan shook his head sympathetically, sat forward, and intertwined their fingers, kissing the back of her hand. "Then let's see where this dream takes us."
Nathan moved his free hand to grasp her other hand in his own. He inadvertently sent her tea cup flying down the steps where it shattered into a dozen pieces. "Oh, Lizbeth, I'm sorry!"
"Don't be. I never loved it anyway," she murmured with a sigh.
Nathan raised his brow at her insight with a half-smile, squeezing her hand. "Well, let me help you clean it up anyway."
"Thank you. I'd like that." Her eyes held a clarity that had long been absent.
Together they picked up the pieces and began a life they both had only dreamed of.
A/N:
Thanks to Lynn nebula2 & Katie k8eSunbug for being my betas this story!