Author's Note: Thank you to so many of you who have supported our decision to change the direction of this story. While it was hard on everyone, it shows your trust in us as authors to bring about a satisfactory ending for all of our characters. In this chapter, you may notice Lucas is not quite in character. This is because he is, at present, a man without an identity. Be that as it may, he's still the same Lucas Bouchard, and you'll see elements of his essential character slipping through as well. And while it may take a little while for him to figure out who he is, in the meantime, he will be figuring out what he wants – including some things he didn't know he wanted. Enjoy the ride, and thank you for your faithfulness to this story and for reading and reviewing. J&S

It was loud. That was the first impression that young Annie Bekker had when she exited the taxi in the middle of Fifth Avenue on the morning of October 14th, 1920. She had been in America for over two weeks, but this was the first she'd been permitted outside of the Falkenberg estate on the North Fork of Long Island. Her companion, 30-year-old Tilly Rasmusen, managed to convince the Falkenbergs that a little fresh air and exercise were necessary for the 5-year-old's health, and so they were taking an excursion. But now that Annie was out there in the midst of all of this traffic and people, she wasn't sure she liked it. She wanted to go home.

Pulling the child by her arm through the rushing foot traffic and off to the side, Tilly turned to her ward and asked her what she wanted to do that day.

Annie looked up through the round glasses she wore into Tilly's crystal-blue eyes and said resolutely. "I want to sail home."

Tilly sighed. "Annie, we've been through this a thousand times. I know that's where you'd like to go, but you know that is just not possible. So, there is no sense in saying anything about it again."

"But I want to see Daddy."

"I'm aware…."

Annie interrupted. "If you don't take me home and let me see my daddy, I'll scream!" she said. "I'll tell them you kidnapped me."

Tilly furrowed her brow and pulled her away from the people. "You'll do no such thing."

The child opened her mouth wide to scream, and Tilly quickly muffled her with her palm. She looked around at the oblivious crowd, then bent down and stared into Annie's eyes. "Do you want to put everyone in danger? To see people get hurt?"

"No….but Ottilia, I miss Daddy and Franzie and Pipkin and Charlie."

Tilly looked toward the child with sympathy over the playmates she had left behind, seeing Annie had a hard time making friends, and she stroked her hair. "I know, sweetie. This is hard. But you know we can't return, and I know that hurts, but it's just how things are. Do you think I wanted to leave home? No. I did it because it was the right thing to do, and you will do the same because you're a strong little girl, and you can do it," she said with a mixed accent that sounded part Baltic, part Dane, and part British due to the years she'd spent in English schools as a child.

"Now, put on a brave face, and let's figure out what to do. And do not use my name here again. Here I am, Tilly, and you are Annie. Do you understand?"

The little girl nodded.

"Okay, I want to hear you say it."

Annie looked toward the ground.

"Annie. Say my name, or you will not get any dessert tonight. I understand Miss Claudette is making your favorite chocolate mousse."

There was a long pause before the child turned her head slightly toward Tilly. "She is?" she asked quietly, her eyes betraying her earlier mood with the excitement they showed.

"Yes. And for dinner, we are having Paprikash on egg noodles, just like at home. Now, you wouldn't want to ruin all that by being sour, would you?"

Annie didn't answer her directly, but by the way, she turned her head and began happily looking around the city; Tilly knew she had won the day, or at least the minute. With that child, there was always something.

"Come on," Tilly said. "Let's start walking. Maybe you can think as we walk, and then you can decide what you want to do." Again, Annie didn't comment, but Tilly could tell she was thinking.

About a block down the street, Tilly suggested shopping, but Annie wasn't interested.

"What about a movie? There is a theater just down the street. I saw where Pollyanna is playing."

"I've already seen it."

"Then where?"

The little girl looked across the street and saw some children being escorted out of a large building with stacks of books in their hands. She glanced at the sign outside.

"N-new York..Pub…public."

"That's right," Tilly said, bending down beside her once again.

"Lib…"

"Lie," Tilly said, helping her pronunciation.

"Lie-br-are…."

"Air."

"Lie bruh air ee. New York Public Library!" Annie said, turning toward Tilly and smiling.

"Very good! Is that where you would like to go?"

"Yes, please," the child replied, looking up at the imposing structure and knowing little more than that it contained books, something she had always loved more than toys.

Walking up the broad rows of stairs, past the lion sculptures, the pair made their way toward the massive front doors, which had tall arches towering above. They had just cleared a pair of columns and were heading toward the summit when two men in Medieval costume came bustling up the stairs. One of the men didn't see Annie as he stepped passed the column and inadvertently ran into the child. Annie called out, falling upstairs toward the main building. In a split second, before she reached the ground, the same man grabbed her arm, throwing himself down first, allowing his body to cushion her. His hat, bow, and prop arrows were strewn all around.

"Annie!" Tilly cried.

"I'm so sorry! Are you okay?" a mortified Lucas asked the little girl as his companion, dressed as Little John, helped Annie to her feet.

"I'm okay," Annie said as Tilly rushed to her side, inspecting her for injury.

Tilly looked down toward Lucas, who grimaced in pain as he tried to sit up.

"Oh, my!" Tilly said. "Are you alright?"

"The stumblebum will be fine," the other man said with a smile, taking off his medieval pointed cap and stepping forward. He offered her his hand. "Sam. Sam Peters-on…"

Tilly ignored the greeting and reached down toward Lucas, who was trying to collect his things. "Do you need some help? You look to be in pain."

Lucas looked up at her and gave a slight smile. "No, thank you. Just a bruised ego," he replied, not wishing to tell her about the hurt in his side that came from landing on the stairs. He knew the fall would leave a bruise. Picking up his arrows, Lucas put them back in their quiver and then stood to his feet, his thick brown hair flopping messily over his forehead. "I apologize again for my carelessness." He then bent down and got down to Annie's eye level. "Are you sure you aren't injured?"

"I'm sure," she said, looking at him curiously.

He tilted his head. "Now there's an interesting accent. Where are you from?"

"Europe. Northern Europe," Tilly quickly replied. "And it appears you've torn your tights."

Lucas looked down at his leg, and a flash of a memory from Hope Valley came back to him but then was gone. In the four months he'd been in the city, he'd often had this experience, but there was nothing concrete enough for him to piece together concerning his life before New York, which, up until now, was still a blank slate.

Tilly noticed him staring. "You're sure you're alright?" she asked, breaking him out of his daze.

He shook his head. "Yes. I apologize. It was just there was something familiar about – do you ever have times where it's just like…."

Tilly and Annie were both looking at him with confusion. He smiled. "Never mind… it's not important. The important thing is that Annie is okay. It's okay if I call you Annie, isn't it?"

Annie didn't answer, so Tilly did.

"She's a little shy," she responded.

"I feel shy sometimes, too. That's okay," he turned his head, twisting his lip to one side. "Not everyone is as forward as my friend, Sam."

Tilly immediately felt the formation of butterflies in her stomach as she watched this handsome stranger with his gentle ways toward her ward, and a smile appeared on her face.

"You're going into the library?" he asked, knowing the answer but feeling compelled to help them due to what had happened, or it could have been the compassion he saw in the woman's crystalline blue eyes.

"Yes. We've never been," she replied.

"Oh, then you shall require a guide," he replied, standing a little taller and stepping into character. "Lovely womenfolk such as yourself and Miss Annie could easily get lost in thick forests such as this."

Tilly looked at Annie, who was now mesmerized by the handsome stranger.

"And I suppose you know such a guide?" Rasmusen asked.

"That he does," Sam said, again interjecting himself and making his presence known. "We're both heading inside now."

"Then we shall follow," Tilly said.

"Excellent," Lucas smiled, opening the door for the women and, to Lucas's irritation, Sam as well.

"So, I didn't catch your name," Peterson noted.

"That's because I didn't give it," Tilly responded. Lucas smirked. She's out of your league, Sam. He thought but remained silent.

Sam led them to the stairwell, and Tilly stopped at the top and then looked at Lucas. "But if you must know, it's Tilly. Tilly Rasmusen."

Lucas smiled slightly as he committed the name to memory.

"And your name?" she asked Lucas.

Sam chuckled. "Here we go."

Lucas gave a half grin, then rolled his eyes. "It's um…Lionel. Lionel Berrymore," he said as they descended the stairs.

Tilly stood still. "I am sorry, what did you say? You're not Lionel Barrymore? The actor, Lionel Barrymore?"

"No, no," he responded with a chuckle. "He spells his last name with an A, and I spell mine with an E."

"Like the fruit," Sam added. Lucas shook his head.

"I see," she responded, continuing their descent down the stairs. "That must cause a great deal of confusion for you."

"Sometimes, but not too bad," he said, stopping at the bottom of the stairs. "It is always a good conversation starter. Now, if you'll follow my good friend, Little John, and I, we would love to escort the two of you through the Sherwood Forest." He leaned in toward Tilly. "Which happens to be synonymous with the Children's room, at least this week."

"We would be delighted to follow your lead."

Again, a slight flash of remembrance appeared in Lucas's mind, which disappeared as quickly as it had come. He shrugged it off as he usually did. If he paid too much attention to these moments, it would be all he ever thought of, and so he generally just ignored them.

Rubbing the back of her aching neck, Jenny moved the ledger aside and pushed her chair back from the desk at the Queen of Hearts. As she did so, her hands ran across the leather armrests, reminding her that this wasn't her chair- and would never be her chair. Sadness overwhelmed her for a moment as she took a deep breath and sighed. "Oh, Lucas."

After his disappearance, a search had been conducted that lasted for a couple of weeks. The police looked everywhere, even dragging the Mississippi River and Lake Pontchartrain, looking for a body. Thankfully, none was found. But too soon, the search was called off, and life returned to normal – at least for the New Orleans police. For those who knew Lucas, however, life would never return to normal until he was found.

Jenny reluctantly left New Orleans two days after Elizabeth's death, returning to Hope Valley with Nathan and Bill as they accompanied Elizabeth's body home. Her children and nephew needed her, she knew, but Lucas weighed heavily on her mind as well. It was the most depressing week she'd experienced in her adult life, and once she reached home, she discovered a town that was devastated.

The church was full to overflowing for Elizabeth's funeral, with not only the entire town turning out but also the Thatchers and friends Elizabeth had known in Hamilton. But despite this fact, it was kept a simple affair – her parents having the good sense to understand that is how Elizabeth would have wanted it. And so, after a sermon by Joseph and eulogy by some of her students, the school teacher was laid to rest next to her husband in a simple grave with a matching tombstone. Two cardinals, a male and a female, were in attendance on that day as well, and Jenny took it as a good omen that despite her violent ending, Elizabeth was indeed at peace.

Bill stayed in Hope Valley for about a week, mostly to support his godson. But as the days wore on, it was clear he was discontented in doing nothing, and so he returned to New Orleans where he and Jeanette would continue the search.

Upon hearing of Elizabeth's death and Lucas's disappearance, Helen Bouchard had taken to her bed, and Martin stayed home to care for her. Her recovery took several weeks, and it was only recently that she had begun to get up and around again. Still, there was a gloomy specter that hovered over their household as, given the fact there was no word, all there was to do was watch, pray, and wait. And that was all Jenny could do as well.

When she returned to Hope Valley from New Orleans, she was surprised to hear that Mike and Mei Sou had gotten engaged during her absence. They married on October 16th and were now traveling around on their honeymoon, leaving Jenny to manage the Queen of Hearts. Before he left, Mike had taught her everything he knew about running the business, and she found that she enjoyed this job that her brother Lucas had done so well. And, with Gustave as her partner handling the restaurant, they were keeping things afloat for Lucas's return. He would be proud, she thought.

A sad smile crossed her face as Jenny looked around at all the mementos that were a pleasant reminder of him and his adventures. Would he return to them? He had to be somewhere. She closed her eyes as she felt a familiar lump grow in her throat. Her brother, whom she had recently found, was now lost to her once more- and for how long? Would she ever see him again?

Taking a deep breath, she tried to refocus, and her mind naturally went to the other man in her life, Nathan Grant. If it wasn't for Nathan in her life, Jenny didn't know what she would do. In fact, she wasn't sure how she could go on without his presence and that of Luke and Jo. Be that as it may, she couldn't help but notice a change in her relationship with the Mountie since they arrived back home. Nathan was more reflective and, pensive, and somewhat distant. She tried to chalk it up to the recent losses in his life and knew that his grief was mostly internal and personal, so she left him to his thoughts. But then she remembered that Lucas had told her Nathan had once declared his love for the schoolteacher, and she began to become concerned. Jenny just hoped this more serious side of him wasn't due to some unresolved feelings that he had not dealt with concerning Elizabeth. He was still sweet towards her, and they had spent a lot of time together. But the distance she felt left her worried.

A knock on the door startled her out of her thoughts, and she called out, "Come in." The very man she was thinking of entered with a slight smile, bringing one to her face as she stood.

"Hitting the books again?" he said, stepping into Lucas's office with his Mountie hat in hand.

"Something like that."

"Well, all work and no play..."

"Are you saying I have become dull, Constable Grant?" Jenny asked as she closed the gap between them and looked up into his azure eyes.

"I wouldn't dream of saying that..." he said, leaning down and capturing her lips with his and wrapping one arm around her.

Every time Nathan kissed her, Jenny's thoughts became muddled, but he always ended his kisses sooner than she would like. It was things like that that kept her wary of his true feelings. As for hers, she believed she was falling for the constable and wondered if one day they might become man and wife.

Nathan stepped back after the kiss had ended. "I will say you are working too hard."

"I know, I know. And Lucas wouldn't want that for me," she replied, raising her right hand in surrender. "But business has been slower than usual, and I've been trying to find ways to rob Peter to pay Paul. Plus, if I'm being perfectly honest, it helps to be here in his office. I feel closer to him here."

"I completely understand. I miss him, too. I just want you to take care of yourself."

"Thank you for being so concerned about me," she replied, patting him on his chest. "Now, was there a reason you stopped by other than to give me a good morning kiss?"

"Actually, there was," he answered as his face grew serious. "I have to take a trip to Buxton. Those forest fires are getting closer, and I need to help out if I can. I'll be meeting with some of the townspeople and a few other Mounties to see if we can come up with a plan. I'm leaving shortly as soon as I say goodbye to Allie."

"Okay. You be safe out there. I will see you when you return." Jenny drew in and wrapped her arms around the man she cared for and possibly loved, feeling his kiss on the top of her head.

"I will be. I'll be back soon," he replied as he walked back to the door and exited, but not before leaving her with another smile that didn't quite reach his eyes.

The Children's room of the New York Public Library was a large room with wrought iron hanging chandeliers and a terracotta tile floor, which gave it a slightly medieval feel. On the outside walls, multiple reading alcoves were erected next to windows, which let in natural light, and child-sized wooden furniture all contributed to making this a pleasant place for the children to read. But as with most libraries, what it had in ambiance, it lacked in childlike spirit. Oh, its decorators tried to reflect the room's purpose by prominently displaying children's books and etched drawings from children's literature along the wall. But the room was far too quiet and sterile for kids to have too much fun. That was until the team of Peterson and Berrymore took the stage with their morning reading hour in which, each week classic children's literature was read and acted out.

Sam Peterson was a mostly out-of-work actor who lived in Greenwich Village. He had tried to make Broadway, but with the competition being fierce, the best he'd been able to accomplish was a little Vaudeville and the occasional recitation. But Sam wasn't the type to give up on a dream, and so, one day, while he was sitting in his church pew at St. John's Lutheran Church, he listened as the children's Sunday School leader lamented about the lack of attention during his lessons and saw an opportunity to hone his craft. Knowing the man was a librarian and not a teacher, Peterson offered to come act out certain Bible scenes as the gentleman read them. It was an instant hit with the kids, and soon the librarian spoke with the library board, and Peterson was offered an invitation to begin a story hour at the main library for $10.00 a week, which wasn't terrible wages for a library worker working an hour a day, excluding weekends. The rest of the time, he did odds and ends, with his main income coming from waiting tables at Delmonico's on 5th Avenue. But with prohibition hitting the restaurant hard, his earnings seemed to be less and less, which created the need for a roommate to share the expense of living in Mrs. Breckinridge's Boarding Home. Lucas arrived just in time.

By the time the party reached the room, it was already quite crowded due to a morning visit from two of the area's public schools. Tilly and Annie took a seat at the side of the room, with Annie sitting on one of the alcove windowsills, and they watched as their new acquaintances fell into character and began reading and acting out Howard Pyles's The Merry Adventures of Robin Hood. The children, including young Annie, were quite enthralled.

"It often comes about in this world that unlucky happenings fall upon one in such a measure that it seems, as the saying is, that every cat that one strokes flies into one's face." Lucas read the words as Sam acted out in animated fashion, a man walking along and suddenly finding a stuffed cat hitting him in the face, and the children laughed. "Thus it was with Robin Hood and Little John one bright day in the merry Maytime; so listen and you shall hear how Dame Luck so buffed them that their bones were sore for many a day thereafter…"

The gentlemen took turns narrating the tale, and while Lucas was not a professional actor, he portrayed the noble outlaw with such a flare that everyone, including Tilly, hung on his every word. The children leaned forward and laughed as the two men charmed them with their tale.

"…Come, busk thee, Little John!" Lucas said," Stir up those lazy bones of thine, for thou must get thee straightway to our good gossip, the draper, Hugh Longshanks of Ancaster. Bid him send us straightway twentyscore yards of fair cloth of Lincoln green, and mayhap the journey may take some of the fat from off thy bones that thou hast gotten from lazy living at our dear Sheriff's."

"Nay," muttered Little John (for he had heard so much upon this score that he was sore upon the point), "nay, truly, mayhap I have more flesh upon my joints than I once had, yet, flesh or no flesh, I doubt not that I could still hold my place and footing upon a narrow bridge against ere a yeoman in Sherwood, or Nottinghamshire, for the matter of that, even though he had no more fat about his bones than thou hast, good master."

At this replay, a great shout of laughter went up, and all looked at Robin Hood, for each man knew that Little John spake of a certain fight that happened between their master and himself, through which they first became acquainted…."

When the segment was over, the children swarmed Bouchard, asking "Robin" various questions that came to mind. Some were about the story, some about his costume, and Lucas gladly answered them all. Annie stood toward the back by herself.

Noticing the child's lack of engagement and the way the other children, many of whom he'd seen there on a regular basis, were leaving her out, he decided to take matters into his own hands.

"Now, many of you have heard of my exploits before this, I am sure – for I am notorious in all the realm for one reason. Do you know what that is?"

One little boy raised his hand. "You steal from the rich to give to the poor."

"So it has been said, but…" Bouchard said, moving over toward Tilly and Annie. "What if I were to tell you we have a Princess in our midst?"

Annie's eyes shot toward Tilly as Lucas approached her and reached out his hand. Tilly, understanding the child's nerves, whispered that it was okay, and Bouchard picked the girl up and carried her toward the center of the crowd.

"Now, this little girl is named Annie. She looks like your everyday girl, but really, her family is from the noblest of the nobles in the land. Of course, given the corruption of the nobility, I would usually see what kind of contribution I might get from her…." He reached out his hand, put it behind her ear, and produced a silver quarter. Annie's eyes grew big, and she reached into her hair and then looked at Tilly, who was enjoying the magic trick. "But I shan't seek to rob her at all. Why? You ask? Because she is a good noble, and good nobles give to the poor already out of their generosity. So…Princess Annie. I hand you this coin to do whatever good you wish with it as your noble heart sees fit." He handed Annie the coin and then carried her back over to Tilly, who smiled at his sweet smile when he returned her.

When the work was over, Lucas worked with some boys to help clean up the room and put things back as they were found for the rest of the day. While he was working, Tilly approached Sam about his most intriguing friend.

"This was an enjoyable morning. You're quite entertaining," she replied. "Do you have this kind of an audience every morning?"

"It varies," Sam replied.

"I used to be a part of an acting troop myself."

"Oh, yeah?" he said, picking up some random scraps of paper from the floor.

"Yes," she said. "I'd travel with some of the women from the convent, and we'd entertain some of the soldiers coming home from the war. It always brightened their spirits."

"Where are you from?" he asked.

Tilly paused and shrugged. "A very small country in Europe that most have never heard of. So, how long have you and Lionel been friends?" she asked.

Sam moved a chair into place and aligned it with the table. "Oh, about four months."

"Four months?!" she exclaimed with surprise. "Really? I just assumed…."

"That we'd known each other longer? Nah. I found him wandering around a few blocks from here, looking lost, and asked if he needed help. Turns out he'd just arrived in town. Some pickpocket must have taken his wallet and left him with very little money. He seemed like a nice enough guy, and I took him in. We've been sharing an apartment ever since."

"Interesting. And was he as nice as he seemed?"

Sam looked at Lucas, who had a little boy tugging on his arm and another attempting to climb on his back. "He's great. Quiet. Keeps to himself a lot. Needs to get out more. But he's polite. I think he comes from money."

"Why do you say that?"

"The clothes he was wearing when we first met. Those leather boots he has don't come cheap. But you know, he's really humble. Not an arrogant bone in his body, though I can see how some might reach that conclusion because he's very private. I've never heard him talk about his hometown or family or anything like that."

"Huh. How do you know he's not an escaped prisoner or something?" she asked, mostly teasing.

"I know. Ly'd give you the shirt off his back if you needed. And once he opens up, he's a great guy to know."

He looked at the visitor whose eyes were glued to Bouchard, who was now helping Annie reshelve some books. The smile on Tilly's face was unmistakable.

Oh, boy, he thought.

"Course, it's too bad he was hit with an ugly stick," Sam joked.

Tilly turned her head toward him with confusion. "Hit with a…." Then she laughed. "Oh."

"Yeah. Nobody can be as good looking as me. Just not possible."

"Of course not," Tilly said, smiling in Sam's direction before returning her gaze to Lucas. "He certainly is handsome. I'll bet he's a hit with all the women."

"Women do seem to like him, but he seems oblivious. Have never seen him date or even seem interested in any of them. And yes, that's the way his arrow goes. I checked that before he moved in with me. In the world of artistes, we have all kinds of people, and I ain't got a problem with anyone. But I'd feel funny livin' with a guy that might get a, you know crush on me or something. It's hard enough bein' a lady killer without havin' some guy in tears because I won't go out with him. It ain't easy bein' Sam."

"I suppose it isn't," Tilly said with a roll of her eyes. Annie laughed out loud, one of the few times she had done so since they arrived, and Tilly's focus returned to Lucas. Her expression turned to a combination of inquisitiveness and admiration.

Sam looked between the two adults, then twisted his mouth into a sideways smirk. He had an idea but just wasn't sure how to execute it.

"Jack, can you hand me that burp cloth?" Rosemary said, shifting the squirming baby in her arms to the other side and then lifting her bottle. "Jack!"

Rosemary looked around knowing that the little boy had been there a second ago. She saw that the back door was wide open and sighed. There was no sign of Little Jack.

"Lee!" she called out loudly. Seconds later, she heard his footsteps on the stairs as he came down.

"Is everything alright?"

"Could you hand me that cloth over there?"

Quickly retrieving it and handing it to his wife, Lee smiled as he looked down at his daughter. Rosemary positioned the cloth, and then little Betsy on her shoulder, and Lee softly rubbed the downy head.

"Someone's a happy little girl."

Rosemary smiled. "She should be. She drank five whole ounces!"

"Five ounces?! Wow," he smiled, looking at the child resting her head on her mother's shoulder.

"Yes. She's a growing girl," Rosemary said. "And when she starts to squirm, it's almost more than her mommy can handle. Isn't that, right?" she said, talking baby talk to her daughter.

"I'm sorry, Rosie, I was having trouble with my tie. I thought Jack was here helping you with the baby."

"Well, he was," Rosemary's exasperated voice replied, "but he seems to have disappeared. I told him he wasn't to leave the house alone. Could you please go find him?"

"Don't you worry, I'm sure he's fine," Lee replied as he went outside the open door, easily spotting Jack; he was sitting in his sandbox that Lee had built for him. Drawing closer, Lee knelt. "Jack, you know the rules. You aren't supposed to be out here by yourself. Didn't you hear Auntie Rosemary calling you?"

A nod was the only answer that the little boy was willing to give. It looked like it was going to be one of his quiet days.

The last few months had been hard on him since he lost his mother, but they were pressing forward and being patient with him, and he was gradually responding.

Elizabeth Marigold was born on June 30th, a couple of weeks early, which was understandable considering the shock and stress her mother was under. Thankfully, the delivery was uneventful, and the seven-pound, three-ounce baby was a picture of health. Since her arrival and Jack's moving into his named guardian's home on a permanent basis, the four of them were trying to settle into a routine. Some days, Jack did well and was happy to have a little sister around and wanted to help with her. And some days, he was quieter and more withdrawn.

However, the hardest times to handle were when he didn't know how to deal with his feelings and acted out. Sometimes, he would throw things. Others, he would talk back. But Lee and Rosemary understood and extended a lot of grace. After all, both of them knew it wasn't easy for a little one to lose someone they love- especially a parent.

Thankfully, the rebellious moments were few and far between and, Lee had noticed, were happening less frequently than in the beginning. Joseph and Minnie had been wonderful in the early days of their mourning, spending much time with Rosemary and Jack, listening mostly, but also counseling.

"It's alright to have sad, quiet moments. Are you missing your mama this morning?"

Another nod was his reply.

"I'm sorry you are sad. Do you want to talk about it?"

"No," was the short reply.

"If you change your mind, just let me know. I'm here for you. But please remember, it is not good to disobey. Auntie Rosemary was concerned you had gotten lost. Come on, let's go back inside," Lee said gently but firmly as Jack stood and dusted off the back of his pants.

Entering behind the boy, Lee saw him walk over to Rosemary. "I'm sorry, Auntie Rosemary," giving her a hug. When she released him, he immediately ran over to his toys and picked up the boat his buddy had given him. The pair noticed that this had become one of his favorite toys, supplanting even 'dog.' "Will I be able to play with Jo today?"

And just like that, their day continued on. Rosemary relaxed and smiled, "Of course, you can, sweet boy, as soon as she gets home."

The declaration brought a grin from Jack as he sat down and began to play.

Lee watched for a minute, then sat down near his wife, speaking low. "He's doing better, but it will take time. I wanted to mention the adoption will be final soon. We need to come up with a celebration of some sort."

"A celebration? Oh, Lee, what a wonderful plan. I have the most splendid ideas!"

Her enthusiasm brought a laugh. "Of course you do. You always do."

Lee had been concerned about his wife when she found out her best friend was gone because she threw herself completely into helping Jack learn to understand his mother's death. He knew she needed to mourn the loss herself. Finally, that process began one morning when he came downstairs to her tears as she stared at a picture of Elizabeth. Lee helped her learn to cope as much as he could, and her other friends in Hope Valley were of great comfort as well. And now, four months later, it seemed the joy of motherhood had finally been able to take hold. Things were returning to normal.

"I'm going to head to the paper pretty soon. I'm writing a story on the civil wars going right now, particularly in Eastern Europe," he said. "It wasn't enough for the Bolsheviks to take over Russia and kill the Czar and his family. But they seem intent on expanding westward."

"Oh dear," Rosemary said. "I hope they don't stir something up. After four years of war, you'd think they'd be done with fighting."

"A lot of countries are and are focused on the long task of rebuilding. And that's part of the problem. They need resources to rebuild, and with so much of Europe destroyed in the war, that's creating stress on countries that have them."

"I wonder if there might be an opportunity for us to help?" Rosemary replied. "Not that we'd take advantage or could give them everything they need, but Canada and the United States are full of resources."

"That's true, but we have problems of our own. This drought is taking its toll. I heard the Smiths lost their crop and moved last week."

"Oh, my! And with Jeremy entering his senior year."

"Yes. Several other families are struggling as well. Not to mention that forest fire looming near."

"You don't think it would reach here, do you?"

Lee shook his head. "It decimated the area around Albert Falls, and I hear it's heading toward Buxton. So many concerns for Hope Valley. And we lost our tourists when the springs dried up."

Rosemary's troubled look and a shake of her head was her only response.

"Okay, I'm off to the office," he said, trying to sound cheerful as he stood and kissed his wife's cheek and the top of Betsy's head. "Bye Jack, I'll see you soon!"

"Bye, Uncle Lee!" Jack replied joyfully, his sadness from earlier now vanished for the time being.

Once the room was cleaned up, Bouchard returned to the group he came in with and smiled at Tilly and Annie. "I'm so pleased you were able to join us this morning. Did Sam tell you we're here every day?"

"He mentioned it," Tilly replied. "You will be Peter Pan and Captain Hook next week?"

Lucas nodded. "Yes. Next week, he gets to wear the tights as I round up me mateys and tell them a tale. Are you going to be in town that long?"

Tilly nodded. "We're here indefinitely at the moment, so yes, I expect we will be."

"Then I would love it if you could join us again. You and Annie, of course," he said, concerned that he sounded forward.

'We would enjoy that," Tilly said. "Right, Annie?"

"Yes," the little girl smiled. "I would enjoy that very much."

"Then it's settled," Lucas said with a smile, his eyes being captured by the appearance of the woman before him. She's beautiful, he thought, as he examined her fine features, flawless skin, and light blonde bobbed hair. But then he saw something more as he looked into her eyes. There's kindness there – and strength.

Seeing his chance to implement his plan, Sam decided to give them a little nudge forward. "Why wait until next week?" he asked.

"I beg your pardon?" Tilly asked, her expression confused.

"I was just thinking, if you're hungry, Ly and I happen to work at Delmonico's as our day jobs, and I can get us in for lunch at a pretty good price. I, uh, I might have a business proposition for you."

Tilly narrowed her eyebrows. "A business proposition?" Lucas tilted his head in curiosity as well.

"Yeah - an I idea I just came up with."

"I suppose we need to eat," she replied. "But Delmonico's is a bit fancy for our current dress, isn't it?"

Lucas didn't allow Peterson to answer. "It is. Do you like tea?" he asked. "There's a beautiful café with an outdoor garden just off of 42nd Street near the East River. It has a lovely view of the city, or perhaps this diner near Central Park if that is closer to where you live."

Sam twisted his mouth to the side and smirked. So, he does talk, he thought. Read that right.

"You choose," she smiled. "Annie and I are out for an adventure today, and if there's someplace special you think we should go…"

"I have just the place," Lucas replied, thinking of a café by a park with a small pond nearby with plenty of ducks. Annie would enjoy that, he thought, and perhaps Tilly would, too.

It was after eleven o'clock at night when Nathan Grant finally arrived home. He had surveyed the area of damage with the Mounties and had even helped with clearing part of the area near Buxton in an effort to keep the fires from the town. At least for now, he considered them safe. But it was the westward wind that troubled him. The blazes traveled quickly, and it would take no time at all for the current threat to spread from Buxton and take over Hope Valley. He'd call a meeting with the town council in the morning. They needed a plan. Seeing the devastation, he didn't feel good about it. Not at all.

Grant walked into the kitchen and smiled when he saw Allie's note. She had already gone to bed, but there was some stew in the pot waiting for him, and all he needed to do was warm it up. She'd gotten the recipe from Elizabeth and had made it nearly every week since Thorton's death. It was her way of keeping her beloved teacher near, he supposed. They both missed their friend a lot.

Nathan sat down on the couch with a bowl of stew and picked up the phone. He had spoken with Bill earlier, just after he'd received the call from Buxton, and despite the fact he knew it was late in New Orleans, he knew Avery would be up. He hoped for news on Lucas.

Florence's son Paul had taken over the switchboard that evening and promptly connected him to Avery's room at the Chateau de Paris, a much smaller hotel than the one they had stayed in with long-term occupancy. It took only a minute for Avery to answer.

"Good evening, Nathan. You're in late," Bill said, his own voice awake but sounding different, making it clear he was lying down.

"Yeah," Grant replied. "Situation was pretty bad up at Buxton. They're going to need a lot of help. I assume you found a lead on Lucas?"

"I wish I did," Avery replied. "Jeanette said the report from the Treasury came back, and Bouchard hasn't touched his bank accounts since he left. He's simply disappeared."

Nathan shook his head. "Well, we can't give up searching."

"No," Bill replied. "Which is part of the reason I called. Martin Bouchard and I had a conversation earlier today, and we are ready to hire the Pinkertons."

"Pinkertons? Why on earth would you want to call them?"

"I've been offered a position in New Orleans."

Grant narrowed his eyes. "What? What kind of position?"

"Judgeship. After Mayford was prosecuted, it created a vacancy, and the mayor has recommended me as his replacement."

"You going to take it?" Grant asked in response.

Bill nodded. "I'm inclined to do so. It's a good position and has plenty of opportunities to learn about parts of the law that I haven't typically had a chance to explore. For example, the mafia is big down here….and the warmer climate and Gulf air…."

"And, Jeanette?" asked Nathan, having noticed in the past several conversations the affection his friend had towards the widow.

"She might have something to do with it," Bill said.

Nathan smiled. "I'm happy for you, Bill. I really am. We'll miss you, you know."

"You'll do great without me. Besides, we'll stay in touch."

"Yes, but it won't be the same without you. Seems nothing ever stays the same."

In New York, the group ate lunch together, and there, Sam suggested that, given her acting experience, Tilly join them on weekday mornings during some of their skits. They could use a female in the group because Sam was tired of putting on a woman's wig, and with Lucas's deep voice and whiskers, he couldn't pull it off. Wanting to improve her and Annie's social life, Tilly happily accepted. She would join them later that evening to rehearse for the next day's play.

After lunch, the men went to work, Sam to his table-waiting, and Lucas to his role as bartender at the upscale restaurant. Due to prohibition, there were no alcoholic drinks served, but Bouchard seemed to have a knack for mixing even non-alcoholic drinks. Most cocktails in those days consisted of some fruit juice or ginger with sugar syrup and soda water. But Lucas created a few savory creations of his own, including one that, with a few small changes, could easily be deemed as the precursor to the famous Bloody Mary, virgin, of course. When asked where he learned how to mix drinks, Lucas simply shrugged. "Just a natural, I guess."

Tilly took a taxi to the men's apartment in a quaint and clean boarding home run by Mrs. Ethel Breckinridge, a native of Virginia. They met in the parlor as Breckinridge did not allow men and women to fraternize alone in their rooms, and they laughed and rehearsed until twelve. Bouchard and Rasmusen's connection grew stronger, something Sam watched with interest. When they were done rehearsing, Sam suggested Lucas ride home with Tilly, given their late hour. And so, he did.

During their time together Bouchard had learned that Tilly was single, never married, and that Annie was her niece. Outside of that, she was evasive, so he wondered what her background was, but he didn't press. He had a blank enough slate concerning his own world than to be too concerned with others. He was just happy to have met a friend.

They were staying at the residence of Arthur and Sophia Falkenberg, wealthy New York natives associated with the banking industry. Driving up to the estate, Bouchard's mouth dropped open when he saw the magnificent structure that his friend was living in. It wasn't that he was materialistic at all, but he was surprised that for someone living in one of the finest homes in New York, she was so unpretentious – very different from some of the women he'd met in New York. The cab traveled in through the front gate and pulled directly up to the porch.

"It appears we're here," Tilly said. "Would you like to come in?"

Lucas looked at the front door momentarily, and a sense came over him from within that, despite the fact that there were likely other people in the house, given the late hour, his answer should be no. "Thank you most sincerely for the offer, but it's getting late. We need to get some rest."

"Of course," Tilly smiled. "I am very happy to have met you, Lionel Berrymore," she smiled.

The cab driver moved so obviously to look in his rearview mirror that both Lucas and Tilly said simultaneously. "Berrymore with an E." They laughed.

"I am happy to have met you as well, Tilly. I'll see you and Annie in the morning?"

"Bright and early," she replied before saying goodnight.

Bouchard held the cab back until Tilly got inside and then turned contemplative on his return trip home. There was no doubt he felt attracted to her, but there was something holding him back, something about his past. And like so many nights before, he would find himself later tossing and turning, trying to remember, trying to connect with the person he was before.