Chapter 2: You Can Do The Job When You're In Town

Nathan grabbed another ginger snap from the jar on his desk and chewed thoughtfully. He doubted this was Rosemary's vision, but he had her to thank for the inspiration to fill jars with cookies and candy canes all season long in the spirit of Christmas decorating. Honestly, he should have thought of it sooner.

He paced the floorboards, working off the effects of the sugar rush. He eyed the recent Wanted posters and familiarized himself with their faces.

Christmas could be a hard time of year—a time where expectations and lack of money could make a person do something they normally wouldn't. Some took advantage of the kindness and charity of others, swindling people out of their money. It was that kind of criminal that he always liked to catch: a person who needed to be brought to justice.

None of the names were particularly close to Hope Valley, and Nathan found himself relieved. This time of year was the hardest to leave Allie. Though she would put on a brave face, he knew she would be devastated if he had to miss Christmas for a tracking mission.

The Weises and Canfields would, of course, include her in their celebrations and traditions, but it wasn't the same. The Grants had always had each other and their traditions that they carried from fort to fort and town to town. If Nathan was gone, Allie felt even more like a third wheel in someone else's family. Lord-willing, he would be here the whole Christmas season.

Nathan glanced up at the clock and then grabbed the leash from his desk. His furry partner, who was always watching, let out a prolonged groan as he stretched to standing on the jail bed.

Nathan smirked at the dog, "Yes, you do have to have a leash. You tried to maul a cat a week ago. That was far from professional."

With a tucked tail and sorrowful eyes, Scout approached the Mountie and sat for his leash to be attached. Nathan seemed pleasantly surprised at the action, but chose not to mention it.

"C'mon. Let's go."

The tail started wagging at last and only increased in speed as Nathan opened his office door. Scout began to tug and pull his partner when the man lacked the same enthusiasm for the outside world.

"Hold on…hang on. We have to at least close the door," Nathan scolded. At last, they were off and headed towards the Mercantile. Students and their families were beginning to trickle into town, but Allie had plans with Angela again this afternoon to make more pine garlands at Rosemary's request.

Nathan smiled and nodded as he passed people on the street. Most praised Scout—and the dog seemed delighted with the attention. Nathan was less than enthused, but those thoughts fell to the wayside when he spotted in the distance the woman that had captured his heart for the last half decade.

Elizabeth Thornton had held his attention from the first moment she knocked on his door. They always had a push and pull sort of magnetism. Although they experienced several painful hiccups along the way, that magnet pulled them back together time after time. They tried being just friends, but even that deep, abiding friendship they built kept blossoming into love. It was inevitable, and yet they still seemed to need another push to get out of their own way.

Reaching the Mercantile steps, Nathan tied Scout to the stair railing—perhaps tighter than necessary. He looked up again and raised his hand in greeting to the approaching teacher. Then he climbed two steps before turning back and leveling a look at the dog.

"Stay."

With a whine, Scout sat, tilted his head, and raised a paw in the air pitifully.

Nathan narrowed his eyes at the dog, and then turned back to the steps, climbing them quickly and fighting the urge to steal another glance at Elizabeth.

The Yosts were taking orders for Christmas hams or turkeys and there were a limited number this year. Families from all over the valley filled the store. The past few years had been tough for hunters, but this year had reached a new low. Even the most resourceful frontiersmen were scrambling for food as the native animals had seemingly disappeared.

The line stretched down an aisle and along the side wall all the way to the door. Nathan made small talk with the townsfolk in front of him and waved at Faith who was nearing the register.

A few minutes later, the bell on the door rung behind him, but the leap in his chest told him exactly who it was before he had even turned around. He would recognize that scent of lavender and vanilla anywhere. She had always had a knack for finding and following him around town.

"Oh hi, Nathan."

His heart started to hammer in his ears at the sweet sound of her voice. Just a friend. Don't over read it. He recited to himself as he turned around and tried to keep it cool.

"Hi, Lizbeth. Are you, uh, ordering a ham?"

She's in line isn't she? His thoughts accused him over his regular verbal blunders with her.

Elizabeth fought a smile and bit her lip instead. "Unless they're offering a Christmas goose."

Nathan's cheeks burned red. "Pretty sure they're fresh out. I haven't seen one of those since I was a kid."

Elizabeth blushed and dropped her eyes, "I…may have seen one since then. My father loved goose."

"Really? I would have taken him more for a turkey man."

Elizabeth laughed, tilting her head, "Because of Dickens?"

Nathan nodded with a smile, "Reading A Christmas Carol every year has become a bit of a Christmas tradition for me."

Elizabeth smiled, seemingly impressed. "Me too," she whispered. "My father gets a bit sentimental at Christmas. His father brought home a goose every Christmas Eve, and his mother roasted it slowly all day over the coals. Father always said it didn't feel like Christmas without a goose."

Nathan nodded, "I know what he means. My father was never much of a hunter, so my mother would always cook a piece of ham. Sometimes roasted, sometimes as a soup or stew…." A look of pain flashed briefly across his eyes at the memory, "…it depended on the year."

Elizabeth reached out and placed her hand on his arm in support with a sad smile. "So are you getting a ham, then?"

Nathan's heart increased as the warmth of her hand radiated directly into his rapidly beating heart. He managed to nod with a watery smile, "Allie insisted. She grew up with ham for Christmas dinner between my sister and my mother. I've tried to honor the tradition every year that I can. It's always helped her feel like home no matter where we are."

Elizabeth squeezed his arm gently. "I think that's a wonderful thing you're doing for her, Nathan."

He pressed his lips together, fighting a bigger smile at her praise, "Thank you."

The line continued to move along as Nathan and Elizabeth got lost in their regular, easy conversations. Although he was rarely seen as a man of many words, there was something about Elizabeth that opened him up where his heart and his thoughts flowed freely with her. It was as if the walls he had built over years of pain came crumbling down with her gentlest push. He was an open book.

At last, Nathan was next in line. Ned waved him to the register, and he signed his name to the bottom of the order form for half of a ham. The paper read in bold capital letters, "MT. CRUMPIT PROCESSING" with a large seal portraying a jagged mountain. Nathan traced a finger across the company name, "Ned? Where is Mt. Crumpit? I haven't crossed it before."

Ned dropped his voice to a whisper. "North of here a few hours. Bill called around to all of the local butchers and farmers, but everyone was already contracted through this guy. He met with Bill a week ago at the Cafe and set up a contract to ensure us all meat for Christmas."

"What happened to the butcher in Union City we used?"

"He retired and sold his business to Mt. Crumpit."

Nathan nodded. "Thanks for doing this, Ned."

"Thank Bill. He did all the leg work finding this guy."

"I will. Do I pay you now or when the order comes in?"

"Payment is due now. Bill already had to pay in advance to secure the order. I'd like to get the money back to him as soon as we can."

Nathan agreed and paid his portion. Ned waved forward Elizabeth. Nathan raised a silent hand in greeting to Florence who was busy taking calls at the switchboard before he headed out the door. Once outside, Nathan spotted the leash still tethered to the rail with Scout's collar dangling precariously.

"Oh great," Nathan huffed—his hands finding his hips. "Where is he now?"

No sooner had he asked, Scout came trotting out from behind the saloon, picking up the pace as he spotted his partner. As he neared, Nathan noticed a distinct smear of gravy all across the dog's snout—despite Scout's efforts to lick it clean.

"You're begging for scraps now? Isn't it enough getting treats everywhere we go?!"

Scout whined and dropped his head, slipping easily back into his collar. Nathan's eyes flared. "We'll be fixing that collar when we get back."

The bell on the Mercantile door jingled again, and Elizabeth descended happily down the steps. "There's a good boy! Mrs. Yost had a bone just for you."

The dog stood—his tail wagging his whole body at the sight of her. Nathan knew the feeling.

She swooped down and patted Scout's head. He gladly accepted her bone while Nathan rolled his eyes. "He has a way with the ladies."

Elizabeth blushed and looked up at him, "Ladies aren't so hard to figure out."

Nathan gulped, "I…uh…have had a harder time with that."

"Maybe your luck has changed…" she spoke softly as she stood, turning back towards him.

"I…hope so." Nathan's spoke, barely a whisper.

Scout wagged his tail and glanced between the pair, dropping his bone. The pup circled around her and quickly climbed the steps causing his leash to pull her towards Nathan, pinning them to the stair railing where his leash was still expertly tethered.

Elizabeth laughed in shock, "Scout!" Her hands landed precariously across Nathan's broad chest.

Overwhelmed by her sudden presence and touch, Nathan half-heartedly whispered, "Bad dog."

Elizabeth merely raised her chin bringing her lips mere inches from his, "Yeah." She whispered in response, her eyes locking with his in wonder as she seemed to melt into him.

Nathan searched her baby blue eyes, finding not a trace of fear or reservation. Without a thought, he felt himself leaning towards her and closing the gap.

Scout barked.

Elizabeth jumped, gripping his serge in her fists. She flushed red, matching the garment. Nathan turned his head and glared, "Ok, now you're a bad dog."

"Not all bad." Elizabeth whispered, relaxing her hands again. Her breath was warm and inviting on his cheek.

He turned back tenderly towards her and whispered back. "No, I…guess not." Her eyes were vulnerable and held—what Nathan could only hope was—a sign of their future.

The bell on the Mercantile door jingled again with another patron heading home after placing their order. Elizabeth quietly cleared her throat, released his serge, and took a half step back. Only then did Nathan realize that at some point Scout had released them and had returned to his business of chewing on his newly acquired bone.

Nathan cleared his throat as well and smoothed his serge. "Yes, well…it was great running into you…I mean seeing you…I mean…"

Elizabeth laughed. "It was great running into you too." She held his gaze a beat longer than necessary. "I should…probably get back to Jack. Robert is waiting."

"Right. Hopefully, I'll…run into you…again soon?"

"I'd like that."

"Ok." Nathan couldn't help but smile as he stepped away from the railing.

"Ok." She repeated, her own face shining.

Nathan tore his eyes from Elizabeth and focused on untethering Scout as if he had never seen a knot before—anything to keep himself from watching her walk away. Scout glanced up at him with a tilted head, lowered ears, and a raised paw.

He fought a smile and whispered to him, "Ok, you're not a bad dog….thank you."

Scout seemed to smile as his ears instantly raised, his tongue panted off to one side, and his chin lifted at the praise.

"Now don't get a big head."

Scout barked.

Elizabeth turned her head at the sound, and Nathan stole one last look at her. Their eyes locked again—despite the distance—and Nathan tipped his hat to her before they both continued on their way in opposite directions. A lop-sided grin filled his face and he fought the urge for a skip in his step.

His mind was swimming with renewed hope even as he stepped further and further away from her. So lost in his thoughts was he, that he completely missed the scowl and muttering before him as Bill trodded out a warpath on the boardwalk from his office to the Cafe.

"What're you smiling about?" Bill grouched.

"What? Oh…uh…I just got our Christmas ham ordered. Allie will be so excited. Thanks for doing that."

Bill groaned. "Well, good. She deserves it. If only I could get that guy to call me back. He's impossible to get ahold of."

Nathan raised a brow in amusement. "You don't think it's his busiest time of year…do you?"

Bill shot him a glare. "I don't like it. A man shouldn't do business like that."

"And you always answer the Cafe phone?"

Bill narrowed his eyes, "Minnie does."

"Maybe he needs a Minnie."

Bill's brows pinched in offense, "He can't have her. She's good help."

Nathan laughed, "Ok Bill. You knew what I meant."

Bill just grumbled and shook his head. "It's not just that. I've got a load of case paperwork still to do, Ned returned the mail I sent out last week all of which apparently had wrong addresses, and my fruitcake didn't set up right this morning."

Nathan fought a laugh, "Well I doubt anyone will be upset about that last one."

Bill narrowed his eyes at Nathan and straightened his stance, "My fruitcake is delicious. It's a family recipe."

Nathan feigned a cough to hide his smile. "No doubt, Bill. I'm sure it's great fruitcake. I've got to…uh…get back to the office myself and get Newton ready for rounds. Good luck with your paperwork."

Bill pressed his lips together in a frown. "Yeah. Thanks."

The judge resumed his barreling down the boardwalk with several townsfolk clearing out of the way or crossing into the street at the sight of him. Nathan merely shook his head in amusement at Bill's prickly exit before returning on his own journey back to his office. There were ginger snaps waiting.

A/N:

When planning this story, I thought a food shortage could make for an interesting conflict, but I kept being bothered by the fact that there were likely tons of deer, geese, elk, fish, etc that it would be tough to justify a bunch of frontiersmen struggling to eat. I started researching (opening copious amounts of tabs of course) what the wild game populations were in Alberta 1920. Turns out that most wild game was nearly extinct and at its lowest point by 1920 due to over hunting/trapping and loss of habitats from growing cities and industrialization.

Kind of neat (and sad) when a story idea turns out to have historical backing. (Spoiler to real life: efforts in the 1960s to reestablish elk, geese, deer, etc populations have led to teeming wildlife again. Yay people!)

Another happy accident this chapter was finding out that the Christmas Goose dwindled in popularity because Charles Dickens' A Christmas Carol portrayed the Cratchit's dinner as a poor man's supper. Scrooge gave the Cratchits a large turkey instead at the novel's end. (Also the near extinction of the Canadian goose added to the switch in popularity). The wealthy and later the middle class embraced and viewed turkey and/or ham as the ideal Christmas dinner.