December 16th, 1910
Mrs. Rosemary Thornton
General Delivery
East Cape Fullerton Station
British Columbia
Dear Rosemary,
I was so glad to receive your letter and to read of your happy news. Having seen you and Jack together, even just for that one night, Nathan and I weren't in the least surprised to hear of your wedding. It was clear to us that the bond between you hadn't suffered with the time you'd spent apart. I think I forgot to tell you that Jack had mentioned you to Nathan all the way back in August when they first met, so he was thinking of you even then.
And of course we understand your desire, after all these years, to marry without delay. I know that the small church in Cape Fullerton might not have been, as you said, the place you'd dreamt of for your wedding, but the night out on the water, on the boat lent to you by Jack's friend, sounded lovely. He really covered the boat with candles? I'm aware I haven't known him for very long, but I would not have pegged Jack Thornton as that kind of romantic. I'm certain you inspired him.
When your letter arrived, I was getting ready to start one to you even without an address, because as it turns out, Nathan and I have some happy news as well. He's anxious to put down roots here in Coal Valley and is planning to build a house out on the meadow we showed you, the one on the way to the church? And he wants me to live there with him and Allie. As his wife. And I have the engagement ring to prove it.
My sweet Nathan got down on one knee and made a perfectly Nathan-like proposal. It started as a way to join our horses and evolved into a lovely collection of dreams and wishes, ending with him pulling out his great-grandmother's ring and asking me to be his wife.
You are already a wife, so I wonder, does that word still make your heart beat faster? It certainly does mine. I suppose as little girls, we are raised to dream of the day we become brides, but there's no way to convey everything it means until it happens and is actually grounded in love. The girlhood dreams are all about the dress and the flowers, and how magical it is all going to be. But for me, none of that matters at all next to the promise that we will spend every day from that moment bound together in love. And from your letter, it sounds as if you feel the same.
You said you thought I might feel sadness about your sweet small wedding in your borrowed white dress, but I have absolutely none - because I know that you were standing next to the man you loved beyond all others. The one you've chosen to spend your life with.
And yes, I agree, I wish we could have been there as well. We would have been happy to stand up for you, but the spontaneity of the moment, from what I already know of you, appears to be very much in character, and it sounds as if it filled you with unspeakable joy to be so swept off your feet.
The photograph is such a lovely gift, and I've never seen two happier people. Jack looked dashing in his uniform, and the glow surrounding you is fairly visible in the picture. It will go in a frame on my small table in my room and then in a place of honor in our new home once it's built.
And in answer to what I know will be your next question? I don't know. Nathan and I would like to manage the wedding arrangements to coincide with the building of the house, so that the first night we spend out on the meadow will be our wedding night. That means a spring wedding at the earliest, as we must wait until the thaw before we even begin laying the foundation.
And I will tell you that I don't mind waiting. Now that I know we'll be together forever, it feels like forever has already started, and this will simply be another step on the path we're taking together.
Oh, Rosemary, I love him so dearly.
You'll remember that we laughed around the dinner table about the ridiculous way we first met, with my broken hat and dirty face out there at the stagecoach. With me thinking Nathan was my father's spy and him thinking I was a spoilt eastern princess. It didn't take us very long to move past that inauspicious beginning, but I realize now that we fell in love almost immediately. Your talk of destiny has me philosophizing and thinking of what ifs, and of all the choices Nathan and I could have made to bring us both to this place in this time – the choices we did make feel like nothing less than God's plan for us.
In other news, Coal Valley is in the throes of an investigation of the mine disaster we touched on briefly with you and Jack. There is an investigator in town, Bill Avery, also a Mountie, who says he remembers Jack from a number of classes at the Academy and wishes me to pass on a hello.
Bill has a gruff demeanor that he uses to cover an abundantly soft heart, though he's really fooling no one. And this part you will especially like - there appears to be something brewing between Bill and Abigail, though it hasn't gone past the playful flirting stage. They do seem as if they would be rather good for each other, but it's far too early to know. And Bill might be a bit of a tumbleweed and not inclined to settle down. Time will tell.
I won't bore you with too many of the particulars, but Nathan is faced with a dilemma. The mine is clearly unsafe, but it is also far and above the main employer in Coal Valley, and shutting it down will leave most of the men in town out of work and unable to put food on their tables. The hope is that the man we told you about, Henry Gowen, will make some very expensive repairs and install a new ventilation system, but we all fear it's a futile hope. The good news is there aren't two better minds than Nathan's and Bill's to work through this problem. I offer opinions and advice, as does Abigail, and we are listened to - which, as you know, being a woman, is not always the case in dealing with men and business.
And now I have bored you with details, and for that I apologize. But when the town you live in and love is going through this kind of upheaval of growth and change, it tends to overshadow other concerns.
Allie is doing well and sends you a very big hug. She heard Jack call you Rosie so many times, and it's so much easier to say than Rosemary, that it is the name she now uses for you. You made quite an impression on that little girl and she wishes you were here to perform Peter Pan as her bedtime story every night. Nathan and I have tried, but Tinker Bell never turns out quite right.
Abigail also sends her best wishes on your marriage. I hope you don't mind that I read parts of your letter to her, as she had immediate fond feelings for you as well.
We are beginning to prepare for Christmas, and though it will be the first one celebrated by many widows and children without their husbands and fathers, there is still the anticipation of joy in Coal Valley. There is talk of bringing the largest tree possible into the middle of town and decorating it together. It's a lovely idea, and I'm one of those working toward making it happen.
I'm glad to hear that Jack has reconsidered volunteering in the Northern Territories. I suppose it will always be our worry as Mountie wives – that they will be posted somewhere dangerous – but I also know countless women, including Abigail, whose husbands went off daily to the mines (considered a somewhat normal job) and one day simply didn't come home. There are dangers everywhere it seems.
All we can do is trust in God and give thanks for every moment we have with these very brave and selfless men. Mountie is truly a noble profession, and I'm nothing but proud of Nathan for choosing it.
On that note, as the candle is burning very low, I will close. Is it too much to hope that we might write more often than monthly? I enjoyed your letter so much, and I feel you as you do, that we have somehow forged a very strong bond, very quickly.
With much love and affection,
Your friend, Elizabeth
Nathan and Bill had their heads together at Abigail's leaning over the schematic of the mine shafts. It was long past business hours and the Cafe was empty. Elizabeth was upstairs writing a letter to Rosemary, and Abigail was baking after having read a story to Allie, who had promptly fallen asleep on the downstairs sofa.
"Henry says that closing up the shaft that exploded has effectively solved the problem, and that since the levels of methane in the rest of the shafts are lower, nothing more needs to be done. He's pretty dug in on that, Nathan," Bill said.
"But you and I both know that the levels of methane are rising and that sooner or later, there will be another explosion. And the next step would be that we take your report to the Bureau of Mines and ask them to shut it down." Nathan exhaled. "Which puts a lot of people out of jobs."
Bill thought for a moment, and sipped his coffee. Nathan knew this look already, and he gave Bill plenty of time to gather his thoughts.
"What if..." Bill started, narrowing his eyes, "We found someone, a businessman that we could trust, who was looking for an opportunity? What if we gave these men an alternative to working in the mine?"
Nathan nodded. "What kind of business could employ that many?"
Bill raised an eyebrow. "Where did you say you got all the materials to build the church, and the housing for the miners?"
"In Murrayville. There's a sawmill there." Nathan thought for a moment and then frowned and looked across at Bill. "A sawmill?"
"You worried that you don't have enough trees out here?" Bill tilted his head and smiled. "Who owns the land?"
"Henry Gowen owns some of it in town. I've already purchased the parcel on the meadow where Elizabeth and I will live. I thought it was a good idea to do that before any accusations started flying about the mine explosion."
Bill laughed softly, "Smart man, Nathan. You sure that contract is ironclad? Because once this all becomes public, Gowen won't want to sell you a pencil."
"It is. I had a lawyer in Benson Hills look at it." Nathan narrowed his eyes, "So you're thinking of bringing in someone who wants to start a sawmill?"
Bill nodded. "You said yourself that this town is growing. There's so much more potential here than for just coal work."
Nathan nodded back and continued. "All of the land around Coal Valley belongs to the government. People apply at the Dominion Lands Office in Union City for pieces of land to homestead, so I imagine someone looking for more than a plot of land would go there. But yes, there's plenty of land available all around Coal Valley." Nathan smiled at Bill. "And there are lots of trees on that land."
Bill stood and walked over to the coffee pot, pouring himself another cup. While Abigail wasn't looking, he reached out for a freshly-baked cookie. She turned sharply, smiling, and tapped his hand with a wooden spoon.
"You're eating up my profits, Bill," Abigail said, laughing.
Bill winked at her. "Put it on my tab," he said, heading back out to Nathan.
Sitting down, he said. "I think I'll ride out to Union City tomorrow first thing. I can use my status as inspector to find out if anyone has been thinking of starting up a sawmill in the area. Maybe we can convince them that Coal Valley is just the place."
Nathan frowned. "You know, we're going to have a problem."
Bill looked across at him, narrowing his eyes. "What now?"
Nathan raised an eyebrow and smiled. "Well, what's the name of this town, Bill?"
Bill shook his head. "Coal Valley?" Then it dawned on him. "Ah. So we rename it… I don't know… Lumber Valley? Wood Valley? Sawmill Valley?"
Abigail walked over with a plate of cookies, still steaming from the oven and smelling delicious.
"I told you the other day. We should call it Hope Valley."
Both men nodded as they filled their mouths with the exquisite taste of Abigail's ginger cookies.
"Hope Valley," Nathan said, trying out the sound of it.
Bill nodded, reaching for another cookie. "Hope Valley. I like it." Then he said, "Only one question left," he said.
Abigail and Nathan looked at him, frowning.
"Who's climbing up to repaint the sign on the water tower?"