The first page of a new journal always feels like a fresh start. It's very welcome this evening, as my last journal was lost in a fire that I accidentally started in the Coal Valley teacherage. My cheeks go red again, just writing that. I have been assured by multiple town residents that it was an old building and might have needed to come down; but I feel that, being new here, it's likely I shouldn't have been the one to do it. On the bright side, which I always wish to seek out, I have now learned how to start a fire. Turns out I'm quite good at it.

As I think about my lost journal, I realize that it primarily contained the speculations of a young girl who didn't know yet what she was getting herself into. She was bright-eyed and ready to face a challenge, but blissfully unaware that challenges don't generally stand in a neat and tidy line waiting to confront you. They will sometimes come rushing at you all at once, leaving you stunned and breathless.

Where to begin? I feel my life has turned on its ear in the space of a mere few days, and it's still hard to make any sense of it.

I'm in the west, at last. After many long months of deciding to go, then seeking a position, and finally setting foot in Coal Valley, it seems as though I've been making this journey for my entire life.

And as I write that, I know it's not only metaphorically, but also literally, true. I feel such gratitude for the benefits of my Hamilton life – the comfort, the security, the education and opportunities. They remind me to thank my father and mother every night in my prayers. And while I miss them and my sisters, I know beyond a doubt that this is where I am supposed to be.

I'm not able to go into everything that has happened since I arrived in Coal Valley, because my eyes are closing as it is. I need sleep, and I'll fill in as time goes on. Let me just say that this little town has some of the kindest, strongest, and most open-hearted people I have ever had the privilege to meet.

P.S. Coal Valley also has a Mountie. A very tall, handsome, slightly infuriating, blue-eyed, well-read, tongue-tied, and exceedingly kind Mountie. And of course, this is the person that Father brought here to babysit me. We've already made a spectacle of ourselves, and in a matter of days, this new relationship has become one of the most complicated I can ever remember. Oh, my. I called it a "relationship." That surprises even me, and I wrote it.

I'll stop there, as I would be astonished if Constable Nathan Grant didn't make his way into this journal in future entries. To use Aunt Agatha's expression, I have my feet firmly planted in midair regarding my feelings for the Coal Valley Mountie.

P.P.S. I know I said I would stop, and here I am, back again. But I didn't want to forget to say that I see a very deep sadness in Nathan, and I feel certain it has to do in part with the loss of his sister. It's only been five months and now he's raising her little girl, Allie, as his own, and doing such a fine job of it. But I feel his grief, and I find myself wishing I could comfort him somehow. So as I prayed tonight, I added one for Nathan. I won't analyze why I did that. I will only say that it felt right.

The red serge was hard to miss.

Elizabeth was grateful that she and Abigail were walking behind Allie and Nathan on their way out to the grove for church, because if they'd been in front of them, Allie would certainly be by her side already.

Nathan had looked back once and had seen her. She'd smiled and he'd given her a look that was incongruously a blend of happiness and sadness. And Elizabeth was surprised to realize that it was exactly how she felt. She wanted to be walking beside him with Allie's hand in hers, and she knew it wasn't a good idea.

Abigail seemed to sense her conflict, and was content to fall back in the group of townspeople walking out to the grove. Elizabeth was glad to see so many, and then she remembered Abigail saying that there were quite a few outlying farms that were virtually self-sufficient, and the farmers and their families only came into town for the things they couldn't produce themselves, and for Sunday services.

Elizabeth smiled. She had been one of the few children in their Hamilton church who hadn't squirmed and fussed in the hard pews on Sundays. She remembered loving the sound of the choir and of the pastor's voice, echoing powerfully off of the cavernous ceilings. Even when she didn't understand what he was saying, the words seemed to elicit a feeling of well-being in her. Elizabeth also always loved the sense of community, of joining together to celebrate something much larger than herself or her own small family.

So as she walked with Abigail, Elizabeth was looking forward to hearing Cat Montgomery speak, and she was especially looking forward to being out in nature as she did it.

As they came into the clearing, Elizabeth was surprised to see that all of the seating was taken and people were starting to stand at the edges by the trees. Of course there were no pews out here, but there were rows of thick logs being used as benches. Elizabeth could see Nathan and Allie sitting on the left side of the aisle, on the last log at the back.

Again, Nathan turned, and she knew what he was going to do even before he did it. He bent down to speak to Allie and she turned too, seeing Elizabeth. She started to get up and then Nathan said something gently to her and she sat back down. Nathan stood and walked toward Elizabeth and Abigail.

He kept his voice low. "If you ladies would like to sit down, I really should stand here in the back. I'd like to keep an eye on those two." Nathan inclined his head toward the two Pinkertons leaning up against a tree to his right. They were dressed in head-to-toe black and both wore smirking scowls on their faces.

"Those are Henry Gowen's men," Abigail said softly. "They stand back here and take notes while Cat speaks every Sunday."

Elizabeth frowned when she saw the pistols they wore on their hips. "Why would there need to be armed men taking notes at a Sunday service?" she asked.

Nathan narrowed his eyes and said, "Gowen doesn't seem too fond of things that he doesn't control." He looked back toward Allie. "I would appreciate it if you would both sit with Allie while I stand back here. Would you mind?"

Abigail nodded and said, "Not at all." She looked at Elizabeth and smiled and then she walked over to sit next to Allie.

Elizabeth raised an eyebrow. "That was a very clever way of getting us to take your seat, Constable," she said.

Nathan didn't turn, but his crooked smile began as he looked straight forward. "I thought we'd progressed past the point of Constable, Elizabeth," he said softly.

She smiled and kept her eyes forward too. "Only when we're not in public, Constable Grant."

His smile widened. "That might give me incentive to find you when you're not in public, but I'm certain that's not what you're suggesting, Miss Thatcher."

Elizabeth looked sharply at him, but he could see that she was trying not to laugh. "I think I liked you better when you were having trouble finding your words, Constable."

"Then I shall be silent," he said softly. And then, just as she began to walk away, he said, almost in a whisper, "Lizbeth."

She was lucky she stayed upright long enough to get to the log and sit down.

Cat was inspiring. Elizabeth found herself spellbound, listening to the joy Cat found in scripture, and how she managed to relate passages that offered just the right note of hope for so many in the congregation who were women without husbands and children without fathers.

Looking around at the children, Elizabeth realized that tomorrow, she would be the one standing in front of them. She closed her eyes and thanked God for the reminder that she needed not just to educate them, but to inspire them to continue to find joy and hope in the world around them.

Allie had spent the hour sitting quietly between Elizabeth and Abigail on the bench, holding two of her wooden animals. Before the service started, Elizabeth had asked her about them.

Allie held up the rabbit. "Hare," she said. Then she held up the turtle. "Torta, torsa..." she started, tentatively, and Elizabeth helped her.

"Tor-toise," Elizabeth said, slowly drawing out the syllables.

"Tortoise," Allie said perfectly. "The rabbit and the turtle have a race and the rabbit thinks he's faster but he's not and the turtle wins," she said, in one long sentence.

Elizabeth smiled. "That's a very good story, and it gives us a lesson," she said. "Sometimes..." Elizabeth exhaled, realizing what she was about to say. "Sometimes, slow is good, and fast is not. Sometimes, if we take our time, we can still win the race."

Sometimes, slow is good.

Several times during the service, Allie had turned and looked for Nathan. She found him in the same place every time, and then turned back. Elizabeth felt the little girl's need for his calm steadiness, her trust that he would be there each time she looked. Allie wasn't worried, she was just reaching out to touch him. One of the times Allie had turned, Elizabeth had been unable to stop herself from turning with her. Since they were on the last log in the rows, there was no one behind them.

It was harder for Elizabeth to turn back once she saw him. He stood with his hands behind his back and his legs slightly apart. His hat was smartly level on his head, his jaw was square and his face serious. But as he looked at her, just the hint of a corner of his mouth rose, just by a fraction, and she took a deep breath and turned forward again.

Slow down, Elizabeth. Slow is good.

Cat's voice brought Elizabeth back to the service. "We've all known what it's like when it seems that our only light is the flicker of a candle in the heart of a shaft. But I believe that candle is Providence, guiding us through our own darkness in these past few months. Together, we can see a way into the light."

Elizabeth had certainly seen more elegant hats, but she'd never had anything close to this much fun buying a hat as she did making one with Allie and Abigail. They had laughed together so much that her stomach hurt.

Allie had ideas, and none of them were small. If a curl of ribbon was good, then ten curls must be better. So they kept piling feathers and flowers on top until the straw was no longer visible and it began to look as if it might actually be alive.

Allie loved it. And that was all that mattered.

By the time Nathan came to pick her up at Abigail's row house, they were laughing so hard that they didn't hear him knock at the door. But he could hear them, so he poked his head inside.

"Hello?" he said.

All three turned and then Nathan began to laugh.

Allie was wearing her new hat, but she had decided that she needed to decorate Elizabeth and Abigail's hair so they would feel like they had hats too. Abigail and Elizabeth had ribbons and feathers and flowers wrapped around strands of their hair to such a degree that they had begun to look slightly like fantastical creatures. Nathan was reminded of a production of A Midsummer Night's Dream he'd seen in Quebec City.

Elizabeth, suddenly self-conscious, started to pull some of the pieces out of her hair, but Nathan came closer and smiled at her. "Don't," he said softly.

"But, it looks…" she started to say, still laughing.

"You look… beautiful," he said. And then, suddenly realizing he'd said it out loud, he turned to Allie and Abigail. "You all look beautiful."

Nathan turned to Abigail. "Would you mind, just for a moment, if we stepped outside? I have something I'd like to discuss with Miss Thatcher," he said, rather formally.

Abigail laughed. "Listen, you two. You may think you're fooling people, and you may be fooling some of them, but not me." She smiled up at Nathan. "When you're around me, please feel free to call Elizabeth by her first name. I don't have a child in the school, and I have no worries about Elizabeth's skills as a teacher." She looked at Allie in her hat and laughed again. "And if the teaching doesn't work out, we could certainly use a hat shop."

Nathan smiled and inclined his head toward the door. "Would you join me, Elizabeth?"

Blushing, Elizabeth followed him, grabbing at ribbons and feathers in her hair, trying to remove them. She was moderately successful, unaware of a few stragglers.

They stepped outside onto the porch and looked at the meadow in front of them. "I love this view," Nathan said. He smiled and looked all the way down the row houses to his own at the end.

"Bookends," Elizabeth said softly.

Nathan looked up and down the row of houses and laughed. "It is a little like that, isn't it?"

They stood in silence for a moment, neither of them feeling the need to fill it. Finally, Nathan reached over to the railing on the porch and picked something up. "I have something for you," he said, smiling.

Elizabeth turned and faced him. Nathan reached out and pulled the last two ribbons from her hair very slowly as she studied his face. She laughed softly, "I adore Allie," she said.

"And she adores you," Nathan said.

"She showed me her animals. The tortoise and the hare?" Elizabeth raised her eyebrows. "You're very good. At carving."

"Thank you," he said. "It calms me down." She got the feeling he felt he'd said too much, because he looked down at his boot as he moved a leaf between the boards of the porch.

"Nathan. If you ever need to talk to someone… about your sister. Or anything. I would be glad to listen." He looked up at her and she finally saw it there, full-blown, the pain in his eyes.

She didn't know whether she had overstepped or not, but he took a deep breath and said softly, "It might be too soon yet, but I'll remember. And it's very kind of you."

"Good," she said quietly.

Nathan smiled and said, "So. I have something for you.

"So you said." Elizabeth could see now that he had his hand behind his back. As she watched, he swung his arm around and held a large red apple in front of her eyes. "For the teacher. For your first day of school tomorrow," he said, as the crooked smile stole across his face.

Elizabeth had been given many gifts by men during her cotillion and debutante days. Jewelry, scarves, flowers… most of them ridiculously expensive. But the gift Nathan held in his hand meant so much more.

Grinning, Elizabeth took it from him and began inspecting it. "It's a practically perfect apple," she said.

"I thought you might like to put it on your desk, to remind you of what a good teacher you are."

Elizabeth tilted her head. She didn't realize that she was holding the apple with both hands and had moved it to just over her heart. "And how do you know I'm a good teacher?" she asked.

Nathan's face was open, guileless. "Because I've seen you with Allie."

"She's a very smart little girl, Nathan. I'm looking forward to next year, having her in my class."

He suddenly smiled. "I like the sound of that. Next year." He raised his eyebrows. "I've moved around a lot, with the Force. I won't do that to Allie, so I guess we're here for a while."

"Do you have control over that?" Elizabeth asked. She tried to say it casually, but Nathan could tell the answer mattered to her.

Nathan looked down again and raised his eyebrows. "I guess that's up to you," he said.

"Me?" Elizabeth said. "How can it be up to me?"

He looked back at her, smiling. "Coal Valley didn't need a Mountie until your father requested one? Remember?"

"Oh," she said, very softly.

"So I would imagine that as long as you stay safe, I stay in Coal Valley."

His eyes were definitely getting bluer. And the bluer they got, the more rattled Elizabeth got. It was like a mathematical equation.

"Well, then," she said. "I suppose I'd better stay safe."

Nathan had never wanted more to take a woman in his arms and hold her. But he knew it wasn't the time or the place. So he stepped back, down the stairs, to make it impossible.

He started to back out onto the path, and Elizabeth began to laugh.

"Nathan?" she said, raising her eyebrows, "Have you forgotten something?"

He stopped and his eyes narrowed a little as he thought. Then they flew open.

"Allie," he said suddenly, and then he started to laugh too. "I almost forgot Allie." He bounded up the stairs in two long strides and opened the front door. "Allie, time to go home. Yes, you can bring your new hat."

"Can I show it to Emily?" she asked, jumping down from the chair.

"Yes," Nathan said, smiling at her. "We can stop off on the way home."

Elizabeth stood on the porch watching them, still holding the apple to her chest. When they reached Emily's house, Allie ran in and Nathan stood outside, looking back toward Abigail's. Elizabeth waved and Nathan waved back.

Sometimes, slow is good.