"So let me get this straight. You want to shut down the coal mine and open up a sawmill virtually on the same day?" Lee Coulter was frowning, mid-bite, with a morsel of steak on his fork.

Bill shrugged. "Well, that seems to be simplifying it just a tad, but..." He smiled. "Yes."

Lee finally took his bite. The steak was delicious, and it wasn't the first time he'd been to Sally's. The place was well-known in Union City, and always had some customers in red serge, no matter the time of day.

He looked back at Bill Avery and raised an eyebrow. "You do realize that coal mining and tree felling are two completely different skills, right? These men would need to be trained."

Bill nodded. "Of course. But you won't find a more willing workforce. And I'll bet they'll be mighty grateful for the fresh air." Bill cut a piece of his own steak, moving it through the gravy before popping it in his mouth. "They're hard working men, Lee. They want to provide for their families. They'll all be glad to see you pull into town."

Yeah, wait until they see the motorcycle, Lee thought.

Lee leaned back in his chair and was silent for a moment. Then he nodded. "I gotta admit you're making this look very attractive, Bill." He took a deep breath. "I'm already getting pushback from Albert Falls on a number of issues, and I get the feeling you and Coal Valley won't be fighting me quite as much."

"I don't think we'll be fighting you at all." Bill smiled, feeling that closing this deal was within his grasp. "It's a growing town, and as far as potential, the sky's the limit. These are good people, Lee. You're going to like living there." He took a sip of his beer. "And I guarantee you'll be the most popular man in town the minute that mine closes."

Lee laughed. "Not with the man who owns the mine."

Chuckling, Bill said, "Oh, Henry Gowen probably wouldn't have liked you anyway. He's not fond of anyone who might take a piece of what he considers to be his pie. He wants the whole thing for himself." Bill used his napkin to wipe the corners of his mouth. "But he's gone too far this time. Killing forty-seven men will put him in prison for a while. And that's going to leave a big hole in the town. One you can fill." Bill leaned forward and put out his hand. "So. We have a deal?"

Lee Coulter didn't usually finalize deals over steak and beer. But this felt different to him. Lee was a very good judge of character, and he liked Bill Avery. More to the point, he felt like trusting him, and his instincts were telling him that trust wouldn't be misplaced.

"Deal," Lee said, stretching his hand across the table and shaking Bill's firmly.

"So how soon can you be packed?" Bill said.

Lee laughed. "Wow. I'll admit, it's nice to be wanted. How does a week sound? I can be there by... say, next Saturday? I have a few things to wrap up here, and I want to choose my parcels at the Land Dominion. I need to arrange to have all my equipment transported down to Coal Valley. And you'll find me a space for an office?"

"No problem," Bill said. He had absolutely no idea if office space was available, but then again, he thought with a smile, Henry's would be vacant very soon.

Lee nodded. "Then we're set," he said, pushing back his chair.

Bill raised an eyebrow. "Well, there's just one more thing."

Lee was suspicious of that phrase, because it often meant something was going to be tacked on to the end of an agreement, and it was usually something he didn't like.

"Yes?" Lee said, narrowing his eyes.

"We need a Christmas tree," Bill said.

"Excuse me?" Lee said, frowning.

"The biggest one you can get. For the town square." When Lee didn't respond, Bill said, "We're starting a tradition."

"You want me to cut down a tree and transport it to the town square?" Lee said, perplexed.

"Yep. And then set it up so we can all decorate it," Bill said, smiling. "The school children are already making ornaments."

Lee chuckled, thinking this was definitely the oddest contract rider he'd ever agreed to. Finally he nodded and said, "Sure. I can do that."

"Good," Bill said, finally pushing back his own chair and standing. He put out his hand again. "Pleasure doing business with you, Lee. We'll see you next Saturday."

Lee stood and shook Bill's hand. He grinned. "Yes," he said. "Yes, you will."

Lee laughed to himself. He was excited, and at the same time he was thinking, A Christmas tree? Kids making ornaments? What have I gotten myself into?

Rosemary stood outside the Cape Fullerton Stage Depot and pulled her heavy coat up around her neck. The air had the kind of crisp cold that only came with this kind of day. Clear and blue sky as far as the eye could see. A good day for traveling.

Elizabeth and Nathan were due on the stage any minute, and Rosemary found herself feeling excited for the first time in weeks. In fact, she was so eager that her stomach was actually upset. She probably shouldn't have had only black coffee this morning, but she just wasn't hungry. Maybe they could stop on the way and she would feel like having a sandwich.

She'd made sure that the Cape Fullerton Mountie Office had all of her information. Jack wasn't expected back for at least another month, but if they'd had good luck and were able to win the fighting up there, he could be home at any time. Rosemary wanted to be sure he knew she was in Coal Valley with Elizabeth. She'd written Jack every day since he'd left and hadn't yet received a letter back from him, so she'd also contacted the Post Office and made sure any letters would be forwarded to her. There really wasn't anything else she could do.

Rosemary sighed deeply. This had not turned out the way she'd planned. The first six weeks of her marriage to Jack had been so beautiful. He'd been loving, affectionate, and had made her feel like she was the only woman in the world for him. And Rosemary knew she was, but she'd managed to forget for a while about his mistress, the Mounties – and it was a mistress that he would always love more than he loved her. She would never be sorry she married Jack Thornton, but Rosemary was coming to the realization that this would be something she would battle for the rest of her life, and if she was honest with herself, it made her a little weary.

Rosemary wasn't a person who cried easily, but these days she seemed always on the verge of tears. That weakness infuriated her, and as she felt the emotion well up, she gritted her teeth and pushed it back down.

Get a grip on yourself, Rosie. You're headed off on another adventure.

Just the way you like it.

It was a beautiful night for a ride.

After being cooped up on the stage all day long, Nathan and Elizabeth had been itching to get outside. The fact that it was nighttime before they had a chance to do it didn't deter them from grabbing lanterns, saddling Sarah and Newton, and heading out to wherever their wanderings took them. They'd left Rosemary in the very capable hands of Abigail, who was baking with Allie.

As it turned out, the lanterns hung on the saddles unlit, as the full moon was easily bright enough to light their way. It had been much colder in Cape Fullerton than it was in Coal Valley, and though their breath and that of the horses puffed out in light clouds, they were all happily warm after they'd gone just a little way.

"I should have you ride Newton sometime so he can get used to you. He gets a little spooky sometimes, but he seems to take to you pretty well," Nathan said.

Elizabeth laughed softly. "Have you forgotten that I've already ridden Newton? Twice?"

Tilting his head, Nathan smiled and said, "I meant alone."

"I would love to ride him," Elizabeth said, looking over at the long shock of brown mane that fell over his forehead. "You think he's forgiven me yet for calling him a girl?" she said laughing.

Nathan laughed too. "He's a very forgiving horse," he said. He leaned over and whispered, "I think he's forgotten it."

They rode in silence for a moment and then Elizabeth said, "What did you think of Rosemary today?"

Nathan frowned. "Think? In what way?"

Smiling, Elizabeth realized again the differences in the way men and women process things. She could ask exactly the same question of Abigail and she would know precisely what she meant. But Nathan needed her to be more specific.

"Her state of mind? Whether she's happy or sad? If her life with Jack is turning out the way she thought it would?"

Nathan raised his eyebrows, understanding. "She seemed a little sad to me. Not like she was when she was here last. But she wasn't feeling well. Probably the long coach ride."

Elizabeth smiled. "Perhaps..."

Nathan laughed softly. "Oh, I know that look. What am I missing?"

Shrugging, Elizabeth said, "Too soon to know, but Abigail took me aside and mentioned it too. She's been tired, can't stand the smell of coffee, her stomach is always upset, lack of appetite..."

"The flu?" Nathan said, looking concerned.

Elizabeth laughed and turned to him. She reached her hand across the space between their horses and he took it, looking slightly confused. Then she saw his eyes go wide and his mouth opened. He released a breath and said, "Ah..." Then he frowned and said, "This soon?"

Smiling, Elizabeth said, "My cousin in Hamilton said she knew a week after her wedding night. And sure enough, nine months later..."

Nathan was glad Elizabeth couldn't see his face too clearly in the moonlight, because he suddenly felt it getting warm. From the moment he'd held Allie as a tiny baby, he'd been aware that fatherhood was something he wanted for himself.

He'd always felt the world was a place of balance; that becoming a Mountie would somehow offset the terrible things his father had done, and that perhaps if he could be a good father, it would do the same. But since he'd met Elizabeth, that vague notion had crystallized into something very specific. Nathan wanted a child with Elizabeth. He could see his children in her eyes.

Elizabeth knew him so well that she felt the change in him. "Nathan?"

He turned to her and she saw him take a deep breath. "How do you feel about children, Elizabeth?" He laughed softly at the question he'd just asked. "Well, you're a teacher, and I've seen you with lots of children, so I know how you feel about children..."

Laughing, Elizabeth squeezed his hand. "I want them." She sighed and looked over at the man she loved so dearly. "I want them with you."

Nathan nodded quickly. "Yes. I know. That's how I feel. I want them with you, too." He smiled. "I guess that's how it's supposed to be, isn't it? That other person, you, make me want them...?"

Elizabeth felt her heart skip, and she let go of his hand. They were on the path out of town and completely alone. She needed to hold him, badly.

She jumped down from Sarah, and Nathan was immediately at her side. His arms went around her tightly, and she shivered at the cold of his face on her neck as he moved her scarf away and pressed his lips to the spot just beneath her jaw. Sighing, she closed her eyes. Pulling her glove off, she ran her fingers through the curl at the nape of his neck, feeling the cold of his skin and his hair change almost immediately to warmth as their touch intensified.

Nathan moved his lips up to her cheek and then to her mouth as the full understanding of what they'd been talking about hit both of them. This was what lay ahead of them, this mystery, the passion of marriage, of waking up together and lying in each other's arms every night. And suddenly, they both wanted it to be now, at the same time they knew that it was too precious, too important, to rush.

But for a time, standing between the warmth of their horses, Nathan and Elizabeth indulged those thoughts and let themselves imagine. His heavy gloves hit the ground as he framed her face with the heat of his hands, his kiss deepening, their breath coming faster and their hearts racing. There was nothing dividing them; it was as if they were one person, blending into each other, completely abandoning restraint.

"Lizbeth..." he whispered against her lips, his voice rough. He moved her head to his shoulder, and she could feel his heart beating wildly at the spot in his neck where her lips touched the fire of his skin.

This was the furthest they'd ventured into this unknown territory, and it had left them breathless. But they both knew now, to a certainty, that they would be very good together. That this marriage would be one not only of deep love and companionship, but also one filled with a shared passion.

And for now, that was enough.

Nathan laughed softly into her hair. "Three months feels like a very long time."

Elizabeth snuggled in under his neck. "Emerson has a quote about this," she said, smiling.

Nathan pulled away, his eyes wide. "About this? Oh, I can't wait to hear it," he said, grinning.

"Well, I'm paraphrasing, but he says, Passionate anticipation transforms what is possible into reality."

Nathan smiled. He bent his lips back down again to her cheek and whispered, "So if we spend time passionately anticipating… this… a lot..." He moved his lips to hers, "...then we'll make it happen?"

Elizabeth sighed and closed her eyes. "Yes… well… essentially..." She was rapidly losing her train of thought.

Nathan laughed softly. "I knew I liked Emerson…"