It was a classic move by a small town baron. Set up an appointment, and then, to show how busy and crucial you are to your company, have all of your subordinates come in at intervals with issues you need to resolve. It makes the person sitting in the chair opposite you feel that not only are you very important, but that they are not.

Henry Gowen must have figured that since Nathan was young, he was also inexperienced. If he'd done his homework, he would know that Nathan had served in Calgary, Edmonton, and Quebec City, and had already met enough Henry Gowens to learn a few things. But Henry Gowen had underestimated Nathan Grant, and until he started seeing that, he would continue to find himself at odds with the new Mountie of Coal Valley. Nathan had the perspective to know that someone like Gowen would be a very small fish in a large city pond. Henry would be the one in the chair cooling his heels.

Nathan was ready for the "look how busy I am" ploy. He'd been given the idea by a brother Mountie who had dealt with this often. So every time Gowen looked insincerely apologetic and said, "Sorry, gotta handle this," Nathan simply took out his copy of The Art of War and began reading it.

The book is a military treatise that dates back to the 5th century, devoted to all aspects of warfare and tactics. One of the most famous of its teachings, which Henry may or may not have known, was "Keep your friends close, but keep your enemies closer."

Nathan had no idea if Henry had read the book, and he suspected he hadn't, but at the very least, it kept a smile firmly on Nathan's face while Gowen grandstanded.

Right now, Herbert Ansvil was giving Gowen an update on the shafts at the mine that needed repair. What was making Nathan smile was that any efficient supervisor would have managed this before a scheduled meeting. It only served to make Henry look bad.

Ansvil stood at Gowen's desk with his hat in his hand. "The boys got the last of the inner shafts cleared of the roof fall this morning.

Gowen said, "Retimbered too?"

"Almost," Ansvil said, "But some of the deeper sections are still blocked, shafts fourteen and sixteen are still closed. And then, there's the matter of the shaft where the Sullivan girl and the teacher got trapped. We managed to shore it up enough to get them out, but that shaft needs a full retimber. It keeps coming down as soon as we put it back up."

Gowen glared at him. "I'm counting on you, Mr. Ansvil. It's why I named you my new superintendent."

Again, classic. Reprimand a subordinate, make him stand with his hat in his hand and then lean back in your chair like some kind of prince in your three-piece suit and tie. Nathan kept his head in his book, and Gowen stole a look at him now and then, but he could see that Constable Grant was not impressed.

Ansvil shifted from one foot to the other, and every time he did, a small cloud of coal dust rose up from his boots. "I know, sir, and I'm doing the best I can. I just don't have the manpower to clear those shafts any faster."

This time, Gowen looked directly at Nathan and waited until the silence made the Constable look up. When he did, Gowen spoke directly to him, very pointedly ignoring Herbert Ansvil.

"Well, it shouldn't be a worry too much longer," he said, squinting his eyes and affecting a sneer. "I've been doing some recruiting, and help should be on its way soon."

Nathan closed his book and looked back at Gowen, because it seemed he might finally be ready to start the meeting. Nathan took a quick look at his pocket watch. 9:24, and he'd been right on time at 9 am.

Gowen looked up at Ansvil and said, "Keep me posted." Then he turned back to Nathan, and Ansvil backed out slowly, realizing that the meeting was over.

Nathan didn't like Henry Gowen much when he'd first walked through the door. Now he was pretty sure he actively disliked him.

Raising his eyebrows, Nathan said, "You think we can get to what I came here for, Mr. Gowen?"

"Sorry," Gowen said, though it was clear he wasn't sorry at all, "The workday doesn't stop just because you're sitting across from me, Constable."

Nathan smiled. "That makes it sound like you've forgotten that you're the one who called this meeting."

Henry shuffled some papers and came up with one that he pushed across the desk to Nathan. Picking it up, Nathan read the notice which was typed on the mining company letterhead:

"By order of Henry Gowen, executive director of the Pacific Northwest Mining Company, you are hereby given fourteen (14) days advanced notice to vacate your company owned house. Failure to comply with the order given will result in the conviction and incarceration of the individual."

Nathan narrowed his eyes. "Before we discuss the subject of this notice, there's no date on it," Nathan said, pushing it back across the desk.

Gowen nodded. "Yes. I was planning to have these nailed on the front doors of each of the row houses this morning..." he looked at Nathan and drawled slowly, "...except for yours, of course."

Nathan nodded and said, "Because I'm paying rent, and the widows aren't?"

"That's correct," Gowen said. "I've been more than generous with these women. I've allowed them to stay in company housing, rent-free, since the mine disaster, when clearly, according to the contract, I could have evicted them much sooner."

"After their husbands and sons gave their lives for your mining operation," Nathan said with steel in his voice.

Gowen pushed back from his desk and folded his arms across his chest. "And they knew the dangers when they walked into that mine, Constable."

For a long moment, the two stared at each other in a stand-off.

Finally, Nathan spoke. "How many widows are we talking about?" he asked.

"The twelve that are currently in the row houses," Henry said.

"So, you're telling me that for want of twelve beds, you plan to..." Nathan snatched the paper from Gowen's desk and read, "...convict and incarcerate twelve widows if they don't leave their homes in fourteen days? Where are these women and children supposed to go, Mr. Gowen?"

"Not my problem, Constable," Gowen said. "I need those men and they need places to live. My men are the only thing standing between me and a complete shuttering of that mine. Then the whole town is out of work. I don't think you want that, do you, Constable Grant?"

Nathan decided to cut to the chase. "And why are you telling me all this?"

Gowen's sneer widened. "I wanted to be certain that you know, as an officer of the law, that you cannot take a position on a property dispute one way or the other, and that, should the evictions become necessary, it will fall on you to enforce them."

Nathan narrowed his eyes. Then he smiled. "But that doesn't stop me from trying to come up with a solution that will be beneficial to all parties."

This time, Gowen laughed. "You go right ahead, Constable. Lucky for you, that little girl threw a wrench in my plans. I'm a businessman, but I'm not completely without feelings. You have three days."

Henry Gowen stood up and put out his hand. Nathan sat for a moment, letting him stand there with his hand over his desk, until Gowen took a deep breath and pulled his hand back. "Good day, Constable."

Nathan placed his hat firmly on his head and raised an eyebrow. "You'll be hearing from me, Mr. Gowen."

By the time Nathan turned to go, Henry Gowen was leaning over the paperwork on his desk, behaving as if Constable Nathan Grant had ceased to exist.

"I probably should have taken his hand," Nathan said, reaching up to hammer in a nail at the top of the board that Elizabeth was holding in place for him. With her help he'd made great strides on building his woodworking shop for the backyard. "It was petty of me, but it felt a little like shaking hands with the devil."

"I don't know how you could even stand to be in the same room with him. I'm sure I would have walked out and had no chance of coming to an agreement," Elizabeth said. "You did the right thing. You stood your ground, but you let him know how you felt about what he was planning."

Nathan turned and looked at Elizabeth, who had the frown between her eyebrows that she wore when she was particularly peeved. He bent down and kissed her forehead and the lines went away as she smiled up at him. But then they quickly returned.

"So what are we going to do? These women don't have any money, they're living on the measly death benefit they got from the mining company. There's not enough work in this town for women that they can all get jobs and pay rent. And anyway, most of them have children at home."

"I don't think renting the row houses is in Gowen's plans. He wants them out."

"Twelve men, Nathan. And many of these women have been living in the row houses for years. Their homes. There has to be another solution."

She held up another board for him and said, muttering, "Too bad you can't fit a bed in here..."

Nathan stopped hammering mid-stroke. He was staring at the board he was nailing, and finally, he put the hammer down and took Elizabeth into his arms. "You're a genius!" he said. He twirled her around while she laughed, and Allie came out from where she was playing under the back porch to see what was going on.

"What did I say?" Elizabeth said, laughing along with Nathan.

"The widows don't have to lose their houses, we just have to build on to the housing out near the mine. I've been out there. They're all one-story, single-man dwellings, one attached to the next, like the row houses. I had this lumber brought in from Murrayville. We only need to build twelve of them, and there's plenty of land out there..."

"And you think Henry Gowen will pay to have that done? I don't know, Nathan..."

"It won't cost him a penny," Nathan said. Elizabeth could see that he was already calculating the materials he would need.

"But then how does it get paid for?"

"We build it, we all build it. The entire town." Nathan started laughing again. "Like a barn raising. And while we're at it, we'll build a new church."

"Nathan!" Elizabeth said, thinking he might have lost his mind. "You still haven't said how we pay for all this."

Nathan looked at her and said, "Come sit with me." He took her over to the back porch and they sat down on the stoop. Allie went back underneath where she had her toys set up.

Nathan took her hand. "I haven't told you this, because it just hasn't come up. I told you that I grew up on a ranch in Airdrie. It's about ten acres, and we sell beef, pork, lamb, chickens, eggs, goat's milk, cow's milk and cheese."

Elizabeth listened intently, but she was wondering about the sudden leap in the conversation.

"I still have things to tell you about my life, Elizabeth," he said softly. "About my father, and... about Colleen... and I will, but for now... the main thing is that the ranch is in my name and I get half the profits from the business we do there. My mother gets the other half. And..." Nathan paused, not quite sure how to say it. "It's a pretty substantial amount of money every year."

Tilting her head at him in some wonder, Elizabeth said, "So... are you saying you're rich?" She knew that word could cover a considerable range, and usually had to do with individual perception. There were many people in Hamilton who didn't consider the Thatchers "rich." It was all a matter of perspective.

Nathan clearly agreed with her. "It depends on what you call 'rich,' I suppose. I have fairly simple tastes, and I can live easily on my salary as a Mountie, so the money from the ranch just goes right into the bank. I already have enough to pay for any type of education Allie will want, and if she wants to buy or build a house when she comes of age, she can have whatever type of house she wants. Beyond that, there's plenty for me to build a house of my... my own." He shrugged. Talking about money always felt strange for him. He saw it only as a means to an end.

"Nathan. What are you thinking?" she asked,

He looked into her eyes, and she saw an intensity there. "I want to do this, Elizabeth. I don't know what money is for if you can't do good with it. I won't even miss it, and these women... these fine, strong women who have lost so much are in need. If I can do something to make their lives easier, shouldn't I do it?"

Elizabeth looked down, trying to measure her words. "You make me a little ashamed I didn't think of it first," she said.

Nathan put his finger under her chin and lifted it until she looked in his eyes again. "You came up with the idea," he said, grinning at her. "It's brilliant. Gowen needs housing for his new men, and we'll build it for him. This town knows how to pull together for each other. We just saw it with Rosaleen."

Elizabeth nodded, biting her lip. "I suppose if we all do the labor, the materials won't cost that much." She smiled softly at Nathan and touched his cheek with her fingers. "You're a good man, Nathan." She leaned forward and kissed him tenderly.

Holding her, Nathan said, "I just can't stand by and watch people like Abigail and Cat and Carla lose their homes, after they've lost so much already," Nathan said.

"Which is what makes you a good man." Elizabeth took a deep breath. "So you would buy the materials, and the town would do the building, and what does Henry Gowen do?" she asked.

"He takes the credit," Nathan said simply. "It's the only way we'll get him to agree. I tell him we found an anonymous donor, and we make sure that papers are drawn up giving him complete ownership of what we build. At the same time he gives ownership of the row houses to the twelve widows he was planning to evict. He gains brand new housing for twelve men and loses the twelve row houses, which are much older and in need of repair."

"And you think he'll agree?" Elizabeth asked, but Nathan could already see that she was working it through. Lumber, pumps, fencing, outhouses, each of those things times twelve. "And you have enough money for all that?"

Nathan took her hands again and held them. "More than enough. And I'm telling you all this, but I don't want anyone else in town to know. I'm certain I don't need to tell you how money changes the way people look at you."

Elizabeth said, "No, you don't." She reached up and moved her fingers through the curl of dark hair at his forehead. "We're starting to have secrets we keep for each other, you and I," she said, smiling.

"Another of the mysteries of courting..." he said softly, "Confidences?" Nathan was moving closer to her on the step and he put his arm around her shoulders. "I'll see if I can get a meeting with Henry tomorrow. He gave me three days, but I don't need that much time. I think he has men on the way, and I want to get started on the plans."

"You think the men who live out there would be willing to double up until the new quarters are built?" Elizabeth asked.

Nathan nodded. "Twelve of them might," he said, smiling at her. Then he raised an eyebrow. "You know," he said, toying with one of her curls, "Women are so much more persuasive than men."

Elizabeth laughed. "So you're saying that if perhaps, a group of women were to take casseroles and biscuits and pies out to the miners, they might be more willing to give up their sofas or a warm spot by the fire, in order to help us keep the row houses?"

Nathan grinned. "You're very perceptive, Elizabeth."

"I've been told that before," she said, smiling back at him. "And I know that you're aware of my questionable cooking skills, but what you may not know about me is that I am quite good with a hammer, and a screwdriver, but most especially with a paintbrush. I spent a summer volunteering with a charity that built homes for people who couldn't afford them."

Nathan laughed. "Elizabeth Thatcher. You are a constant source of amazement." Nathan took her in his arms and said against her cheek, "You're hired."

It was a short distance for her to turn and her lips were on his. Suddenly a head poked up between the boards in the steps. "Kisses!" Allie said, giggling.

"Oh, yeah?" Nathan said, laughing and pulling her out from her hiding place. "You want kisses?" he said, and he buried his face in her neck, causing her to dissolve into laughter.

Elizabeth watched them, filled with joy. And again, she found herself feeling the wonder of getting to know more about the man across from her. The man who was so strong and protective in his uniform, and so sweet and gentle with Allie here in his white shirt and suspenders. A man who was humble and now, incredibly, a man of some means. A man who still held secrets about his father and his sister, but was opening his heart to her like a book waiting to be read.

And just like the books Elizabeth loved so much, she couldn't wait to turn the next page.