Chapter 59- Be Thou My Vision
*I hear y'all- that last chapter was brutal of me, and we want N and C back together and happy.
I'll try to get us there as soon as possible, but Charlotte does need some time to work through this (give me a WCTH- Hope Valley day y'all). She can't be what Nathan and Allie need in her current state.
She will get there, but this is the perfect opportunity to bring a little Hope back to Hope Valley. With some of Charlie and Nate dearest friends and family showing this couple just how special their relationship and love really is.
"Charlotte, sweetheart."
Charlotte's bedroom door creaked, producing a robe clad Maise in its opening. The woman's face was illuminated by the small oil lamp she carried.
"Are you alright?" Maise softly asked before noticing the wash basin Charlotte's form was bent over. Charlotte's hands clenched in pain at her stomach as her body wretched with heaves.
"Oh, darling," Maise quickly set down her lamp and knelt beside Charlotte, holding the girl's convulsing body and brushing the hair back from Charlotte's face.
"Should I call for Carson or Faith?" Maise asked, noting the small amount of vomit in the wash basin.
"No," Charlotte's head shook back and forth. "I'll be fine. I think it's just something I ate."
"You didn't have anything for dinner. Is it maybe from your headache?"
More like my heartache. Charlotte thought, using the back of her hand to wipe the last of the sick away from the curve of her lips.
After their discussion at the stream, Nathan and Charlotte had walked back to the row houses together in silence.
What else was there to say?
Arriving at their front porches, Charlotte reluctantly returned Nathan's serge to him. He had chivalrously shed his warm shield at the stream and given it to Charlotte to use, draping the jacket over her shoulders. The warm and masculine scent, Nathan's scent, provided by his serge, surrounded her like an intimate hug on their walk back to the houses. Would this be their last moments together?
Even with all the pain they were both feeling, Nathan's only concern was for Charlotte's comfort and warmth. His caring gesture had brought tears to Charlotte's eyes, but she was steadfast… she couldn't let him see her cry. Not if she was going to be able to go through with this. Charlotte knew she had to keep up this stoic front. She couldn't risk Nathan folding her into a hug, trying to comfort her, as Charlotte knew her resolve would crumble.
Upon their parting, Charlotte had gone straight to her room. Explaining to Maise, in passing, that she had a migraine and was going to skip dinner and go to bed.
Charlotte had been both physically and emotionally exhausted, but sleep eluded her. Everything in her room reminded Charlotte of Nathan. The nightstand, the flowers, the picture frame. His presence had seeped into every fiber of the space. What once was such a comfort, was now just a cruel reminder of what she was losing.
Charlotte had spent much of the evening slowly putting everything that screamed 'Nathan Grant' into hiding. Their picture went into a drawer. The flowers in the corner by the dresser; out of sight. A spare blanket tossed over the top of the nightstand.
Nothing Charlotte did though, erased what was.
She had tossed and turned, replaying the events of the afternoon that spiraled her from the woman, literally grabbing hold of the man she loved with both hands, to the one who was wrecked with heartbreak.
At some point in the evening, exhaustion had taken hold and Charlotte was able to fall asleep. Only to be haunted by the return of her nightmares. Unlike in the past, these dreams were not the painful memories of the night of Charlotte's attack, but rather a new wickedness. One that had found its way into her home.
The knowledge of Nathan's investigation brought the evil, she knew so well, to Hope Valley. It was a dark stranger that darted around the corner of the livery or the mercantile. A fluttering curtain behind the closed window of the saloon. A shadow in the tree line. He was the ghost she never could quite get rid of, but now instead of him haunting her memories, he was haunting her present.
Whenever she saw the shadow in her dream, Charlotte was alone. Standing in the middle of main street or the clearing. Where were the rest of the town's people? Didn't they know they were in danger? Where was Allie and Maise?
Where was Nathan?
She tried to scream out his name, but no sound came from Charlotte's lips. She was mute. Just like the grey and dark world Charlotte currently found herself transported to.
Charlotte ran in her dreams. Tripping and stumbling over the underbrush of the forest around her. She had to find them. Warn them.
She had to find him.
Suddenly Nathan's red serge called to her. Like a beacon of hope in the foggy areas of her dream. She flew to him. Needing to feel the support and warmth of his arms around her. The way his breath would feel against her cheek.
In her nightmare, Charlotte blinked. The shadow darkened her surroundings and she realized it wasn't Nathan's serge she saw, but the red of his blood. The same image she had been seeing all day since reading the letter.
Charlotte suddenly jerked awake and felt the instant need to empty the contents of her already void stomach.
That was when Maise found her. The woman's comforting presence washed a sense of peace over Charlotte as she rocked her gently back and forth.
"I think you're right. It must be my headache," Charlotte finally answered.
"Are you sure you don't want me to send for one of the doctors?" Maise reached her hand forward, running along Charlotte's greasy hairline while wiping the sweat that dripped from Charlotte's brow.
"I'm sure," Charlotte stated, as she began the rise to her feet; her motions unsteady. "I just need to get this mess cleaned up."
"Let me take care of that," Maise took the dirty basin from Charlotte's grasp. "Why don't you go to the washroom and freshen up while I make some chamomile tea?"
Charlotte nodded her head, "That sounds nice. Thank you, Maise."
Before Maise went to the kitchen, she had helped Charlotte to the upstairs washroom. Steadying the girl's uneven and weak gait. While Charlotte washed her face and freshened up, Maise had returned to Charlotte's bedroom to bring a clean nightdress for her to change into. Once Maise was satisfied that Charlotte was feeling a little more stable, she excused herself downstairs to start the tea and clean the wash basin.
When Maise returned with a couple cups of steaming chamomile in hand, Charlotte was standing in front of the small mirror in her bedroom trying to untangle the knots in her hair with a comb.
"Here, let me help you with that," she offered, directing Charlotte to a place on the floor in front of where Maise sat at the edge of the bed.
Maise handed Charlotte a cup of tea and in return took the comb from her grasp. As Charlotte sipped the warm and comforting liquid, Maise began slowly working the brush through Charlotte's tangled mane.
"I always used to do this for Colleen. She had beautiful long hair like you do and it never failed, it would always be a tangled mess by the end of her day of adventures. One time she came home from school, and it was all chopped off. Imagine my shock when I send my daughter out the door with two braided pigtails and she comes back with hair shorter than Nathan's!"
Even though Maise couldn't see Charlotte's face, she could tell that the image caused the girl to give a small smile.
"I had to ask Colleen what in the world made her cut off all her beautiful hair and do you know what she said to me? That it always got stuck or pulled on when she was doing something fun, like climbing a tree. The boys never worried about that, so she had Nathan cut it off with a pair of scissors they found on their teacher's desk."
"Nathan cut it?"
"Yep. That boy would do anything for his sister. He loved her so much. When Colleen was on her death bed and asked Nathan to care for Allie, he never hesitated saying yes."
"I'm sure it wasn't easy," Charlotte commented. "Taking care of a small girl as a bachelor starting his career with the Mounties. Moving from one posting to the next. Never quite settling down."
"Walk tall, look 'em straight in the eye, and shake hands," Maise muttered under her breath.
Charlotte almost spit out her sip of tea.
"What did you say?" Charlotte questioned, twisting her torso to face Maise.
"Walk tall, look 'em straight in the eye, and shake hands?" Maise looked at Charlotte with a confused expression. "It's a mantra Nathan taught Allie. It helped her whenever they moved to new places. I think that is why she has always been so confident. Nathan gives her the strength to be so."
Charlotte felt the blood rush from her body. That was the exact same advice Charlotte's father had given her all those years ago. The same voice that came to Charlotte in her first moments in Hope Valley when she had been apprehensive about going into the school. The saying gave her the strength to carry on with her life. To move forward and who was the first person Charlotte looked straight in the eye upon her arrival into the classroom, but Allie. Dear, sweet Allie. Daydreaming out the window of the school until she had turned to Charlotte and smiled. The kindness in Allie's eyes had instantly put Charlotte at ease.
"To answer your question from earlier," Maise continued to thread the comb through Charlotte's brown waves. "No, I don't imagine it was easy to raise Allie given the circumstances Nathan faced. But Charlotte, everything that's worth having is some trouble. Or so I've read."
Charlotte didn't respond, instead taking another sip of tea, letting the comfort seep into her weary soul. She should have known that Maise would have read the works of L.M. Montgomery.
"I think the idea of raising Allie scared Nathan more than any criminal ever has. Nathan was always so concerned he was going to mess things up with her. He was always afraid of being like Dylan. Or letting Allie down like Archie let him down."
Charlotte's heart broke again at her remembrance of that afternoon when she had compared Nathan and Archie. How could she claim to love the man when she had said such cruel things to him?
"Nathan is such an amazing dad to Allie," Charlotte stared at the wall on the other side of the room. "A dad he didn't have to be. He could have said no to Colleen. Said that his career and making something of himself was what he needed to focus on, but he didn't. Nathan has raised such a wonderful daughter. Allie is kind and smart. Full of heart, laughter, joy, and strength. Nathan has been such a constant, secure, and loving presence in Allie's life."
"You're right, becoming Allie's guardian and now father was a responsibility Nathan didn't ask for and I can't say he was prepared for it either. He didn't have much experience with younger children until Allie came to live with him, but because of his love for her, he has done the best he could. I do believe though there have been times in the past that Nathan wished he could have had a partner in it all. Someone to not only be there for Allie, but also for him."
The same overwhelming hurt Charlotte had experienced in her discussion this afternoon with Nathan rushed over her.
She wanted to be that partner for him. To be there for Allie and Nathan. To love and support them the same way they had been there loving and supporting her from the very beginning. But she wasn't what they needed. She wasn't what they deserved.
"There," Maise set the comb she had been using down onto the blanket covered nightstand and for the first time noted the change in the space. She paused for a moment, but decided not to question Charlotte further, instead saying, "I think I have all the knots out. How about going back to bed and seeing if you can get some shut eye?"
Charlotte's throat tightened. With Maise's comforting motherly presence, she had almost forgotten what had put them in this situation to begin with.
As if sensing Charlotte's unease, Maise placed a hand on Charlotte's shoulder and squeezed gently.
"If you want, I can stay here with you. At least until you fall asleep if you think that would help?" Maise offered.
"Would you mind?" Charlotte's eyes were pleading. She wasn't sure if she would be able to fall asleep again, knowing the horrors that were waiting in her dreams. Charlotte also knew though; she wasn't ready to lose Maise's nurturing presence.
"Of course, I wouldn't mind," Maise shifted back onto Charlotte's bed. Propping the pillows behind her, she opened her arms to Charlotte. So similar to how her son had only a few short months earlier. "Come here and let's see if we can't help you drift off into some beautiful dreams."
Charlotte moved to join Maise, laying her head on a pillow that the older woman had put on her lap. Maise covered Charlotte with a blanket and then rhythmically started to brush her fingers through Charlotte's hair in a comforting motherly gesture.
After a few moments, Maise began humming a sweet melody. Charlotte knew instantly the hymn Maise had chosen. Its tone, haunting and emotional. Stirring and poignant. Maise continued the low hum, while brushing Charlotte's curls, before finally beginning into the lyrics.
Be Thou my Vision, O Lord of my heart;
Naught be all else to me, save that Thou art.
Thou my best Thought, by day or by night,
Waking or sleeping, Thy presence my light.
Be Thou my Wisdom, and Thou my true Word;
I ever with Thee and Thou with me, Lord;
Thou my great Father I Thy true son;
Thou in me dwelling, and I with Thee one.
Be Thou my battle Shield, Sword for the fight;
Be Thou my Dignity, Thou my Delight;
Thou my soul's Shelter, Thou my high Tow'r:
Raise Thou me heav'nward, O Pow'r of my Pow'r.
Riches I heed not, nor man's empty praise,
Thou mine Inheritance, now and always:
Thou and Thou only, first in my heart,
High King of Heaven, my Treasure Thou art.
High King of Heaven, my victory won,
May I reach Heaven's joys, O bright Heav'n's Sun!
Heart of my own heart, whatever befall,
Still be my Vision, O Ruler of all.
"Be Thou My Vision" is such a beautiful hymn (one of my favorites) and I knew at some point I wanted to include it in this story. As I wrote up the scene between Maise and Charlotte I knew this would be the perfect spot.