Chapter 70- Baggage

After finding Charlotte's real letter, Nathan knew that even though she thought their story together had reached its conclusion, he would do everything in his power to see that it wasn't. They weren't finished.

Far from it.

Upon rejoining the rest of the group on the first floor of Charlotte's house, Nathan analyzed the maps Carson had laid out on the kitchen table. If Bill had gone west and Gabe to the east, that left north and south. Nathan had just come from the south and Potter's Creek was in that direction. but he sensed that Beck wouldn't head directly there. He would crisscross the territory trying to bury his trail at every turn. That made the decision for Nathan. He would ride north.

"We are coming with," Lee firmly stated as Nathan came from his office after grabbing a rifle out of the locked gun cabinet inside. He and Carson were already astride their horses that stood beside Newton at the hitching post.

Nathan had wanted to change horses at the livery. Newton had traveled all day and night. It was unfair to ask him to go any further, but Nathan also seemed to know after Newton's reaction last night and sensing something was wrong with Charlotte, that his faithful steed would see this through to the end.

"I can't risk it," Nathan made his way to place the rifle in the scabbard on his saddle.

"It's not up for debate," Carson turned his horse and trotted down the road out of town. Lee followed close behind.

The trio didn't have to ride far before Nathan picked up on a trail that he knew had to be Beck and Charlotte's. There were two horses and the path they left made no sense. Leaving the road at random points, backtracking, crisscrossing streams and rivers, going in circles.

"I need you two to go back," Nathan said as he crouched down to inspect the hoof prints in the mud of a creek bed.

"We are not leaving you, Nathan," Lee answered.

Nathan straightened, staring off into the mountains in front of him. "I'm not asking you to leave me. I need you two to ride back to town and try to find Bill and Gabe. Beck and Charlotte didn't go west or east. They are heading north. My guess is Beck wants to cross the mountains just up ahead around Whitehorse Pass. Then they can use the railhead in Jasper to disappear into the Northern Territory. That's where he is taking her. I know it. The sooner we can get everyone searching in this direction, the better chance we have of finding Charlotte before…"

Lee took a visible deep breath and glanced at Carson. Both men nodded their heads in agreement.

"We aren't that far from town, we will try to catch up to you as soon as possible," Carson stated.

"Lee. Carson." Nathan's voice stopped the two men in their tracks from continuing down the road to Hope Valley. "When you come back… can you drive your car? And bring along medical supplies. In case Charlotte has been…" Nathan's voice broke.

They had ridden all night and part of the morning. Crossing many different bodies of water and rocky terrains. Backtracking and going in circles to camouflage their tracks and throw any possible pursuers off the trail. When they had reached a steep and uneven grade, and their horses began to tire, Charlotte had pleaded with Beck. If they continued on this path with the horses, they wouldn't make it. They had to cross the mountains on foot. It was the only way. She couldn't stand to see the animal carrying her suffer anymore. At first, Beck had disagreed. He believed the horses would be quicker, but when the mare he rode stumbled and almost fell off the steep cliff beside them he quickly changed his mind. They grabbed their few bags and supplies and untacked the horses. As Charlotte shooed the horses away, Beck took their saddles and flung them off the side of the cliff he had almost fallen down moments earlier. Discarding any evidence that they had been there.

Beck took Charlotte's arm tightly in his grip, pushing and pulling her with him.

When they came to a spot just below the tree line, a short while later, Charlotte pulled back. "Beck, we have to stop. We have been up all night; we need to rest. We need food and a fire to warm up."

He stood studying her passively and the fear rose in Charlotte. What was she thinking? If they kept moving, his mind was occupied with other things. If they stopped…

Closing her eyes tightly, she willed herself to remember all the happy memories she had from Hope Valley. Fishing with Allie. Baking with Maise. Laughs with Minnie. Classes with her students. Talks with Rosemary. Nathan's hand in her own.

What were they doing right now?

Living. Her sacrifice would ensure that they lived a long and happy life. One of warmth and kindness. That's all she could ever pray for those she loved most.

After what seemed like an hour, but in reality, was only moments of Beck debating if they should continue on or set up camp, he finally agreed, dragging Charlotte with him as they collected wood and got a fire started. Beck roughly pushed her to sit on the ground while he put two cans of beans by the embers to heat.

Even with her extra clothes, Charlotte was freezing. The frost she had predicted the night before, coated everything around them, including the cold ground she sat on. She tried to get her bearings, but it was difficult with the thick fog that moved in and out of the area on a biting breeze. If she had to guess, they were heading north, away from Potter's Creek. Away from Hope Valley.

Charlotte tried to recall the territory map that lined one of the walls in her classroom. Where could Beck possibly be taking her if not back to Potter's Creek? It was then, like a jolt of lightning hit her.

Jasper. There was a railhead there that could take them in any direction. North, south, east, and west. Into the unknown and further away.

Away from Nathan.

"Dad, you have to find her!" Allie's last words to Nathan before riding out of Hope Valley seemed to echo off the still mountains around him.

"I will. Remember I'm the best tracker in the territory," Nathan had tried to sound confident and brave, but everything inside him was such a scrambled mess of emotions. He wasn't sure how convincing he had been.

"Be confident in your training and skills. Trust your gut. Doing so is what is going to ensure that you keep coming home to us. To me."

Remembering Charlotte's words to him in Brookfield, spurred Nathan forward. He had to clear his head and think like the trained professional he was.

Nathan scoffed. The trained professional that let Charlotte's attacker stand right in front of him and he didn't even know.

"Nice to meet you, Nathan. I'm Gregory Doyle."

"Are you new to town?"

"I've been here a little while. I found work on the pipeline construction site."

"Do you have a family?"

"Engaged."

Nathan felt his stomach become queasy at the memory of his one and only interaction with McEntire. He tried to tell himself that there was no reason he should have known that Greg Doyle was Beck, but that didn't stop Nathan from feeling like he failed. Hadn't he promised Charlotte on their first date at the meadow that he would protect her? That she would never have to fear Beck ever again?

"Charlie, sweetheart," Nathan had reached over to Charlotte, gently lifting her chin so she looked into his eyes. "You will never have to relive that pain. Not while I'm here."

Now, because he had been led away on a lie, Charlotte was out in the cold, damp weather. Tired. Alone. Afraid. Possibly beaten and bruised. Nathan willed his mind to not go further, but it always did.

Even if he was able to find them and safely bring Charlotte home. Where would her body, mind, and spirit be after spending all this time with Beck?

"Stop. Don't do this. Don't let the 'what ifs' of life take away from the 'what is'."

Nathan's words to Charlotte last week filled his mind. He could use a little piece of his own advice. He squeezed his legs tighter into Newton's sides, willing the horse forward at a faster pace.

They had to find Charlotte. Time was running out.

He was thankful, he had thought to pack the few bottles of whiskey he had stolen from the saloon and the babbling Frenchman who worked there. He always hated fall and winter. It was bleak and cold. It made him angry that Charlotte's stupidness is what had them out here in the first place. On the side of a mountain, sitting on the frost-covered ground. At least the whiskey was helping warm him from the inside.

"Beck."

He had waited over a year to hear his name glide across her lips and when it finally came, he wasn't disappointed. It sounded as alluring as it ever had. Her voice; soft and low. Intimate.

He had waited over a year to smell her scent. Although it wasn't the same as it had been before, he couldn't help the feeling of desire that swept over him with the sweet smell of honey that filled the air around her.

He had waited over a year to feel the touch of her skin under his fingers. Warm, soft, and inviting.

She was different though and something about that had him feeling uneasy.

Who was this woman who sat across the flames from him?

Charlotte had always been smart and beautiful. She always had this sense of goodness about her. An energy that lit up any room she would walk into. Charlotte was magnetic, she had an ability to draw people in. To make them feel comfortable. He liked the feeling of being a part of that. The power that came with being in that spotlight and energy when he was with her.

She still had that, but it was different.

She seemed braver, not the scared little mouse that he remembered. The one who would beg and plead with him.

She was confident. Before she had clung to him. Agreed with his decisions. Now she tried to contradict everything he said.

She had pluck. She had called him a coward last night. To which he quickly made known what saying those sorts of things would get her in return.

He knew he had struck a chord with her, when he talked about Nathan Grant and how the constable could have any woman. Why would he choose Charlotte? She was essentially a nobody. A drifter with no family or fortune to help advance Grant's stagnant career with the North West Mounted Police.

At least from what he heard in the saloon; this Elizabeth woman came from a rich shipping family back east. Hamilton's equivalent of royalty. Having that sort of father-in-law would remove any shadowed history on Grant's resume and push him quickly through the ranks.

What a fool.

He had seen the way Charlotte retracted at the mention of the other teacher. He took note of the way her eyes closed, and how she clutched at her stomach as it quivered. There was a history there. The rumors the other rider had told him were true.

But as soon as he thought he was making his way back into her beautiful mind. Gaining a stronghold, Charlotte's eyes had fluttered open, and she swayed slightly as if knocked off balance. His brow had furrowed as his mind suddenly had difficulty reading her thoughts.

Then she went on to claim how much this Nathan Grant really loved her. Even going as far to believe the honorable constable would still want her after not being Charlotte's first… experience.

What a joke.

No man ever wanted another man's leftovers. That's why Charlotte would only ever be his.

That, Beck could promise.

Nathan pulled up on Newton's reins and listened intently into the stillness of his surroundings. There it was, again. Movement through the trees just up ahead. Nathan reached for his pistol and urged Newton forward at a slow walk.

As they came nearer though, Nathan's heart sank. He had hoped to find Charlotte, instead he had found their horses. Untacked and roaming freely in the woods. Nathan scanned the forest, the trees and underbrush were thick, but there was no sign of her.

They must have let the horses go further up the trail when the path became too rugged. Nathan thought to himself as he analyzed the evidence.

He holstered his gun again and directed Newton back onto the road. On a branch he tied a torn strip of fabric from the one of the shirts he had packed. He had left the markers at various places along the trail, hoping it would quickly guide the others to his position.

He worried about how far ahead Charlotte and Beck still were. Would he be able to rescue Charlotte in time?

Beck hadn't said a word to her in hours. He just sat there. Moving his focus back and forth between his bottle and her. Charlotte knew he was seething with rage beneath his currently subdued demeanor. Leaving her alone to her thoughts worked in his favor. Beck knew she would eat herself up with the knowledge of what he could do.

She didn't feel as brave as she had earlier in the safety of her row house. Charlotte knew at that time Beck had been sober, but now, with him drinking, all bets were off as to what his real intentions were.

"Tell me about your Nathan," Beck's mouth lifted slightly.

Charlotte's muscles tensed. "Why do you want to know about him?"

"Just curious as to the types of people that you have been keeping company with while away," Beck shrugged. "In case a surprise happens to come along over the next few months neither of us were expecting."

Out of reflex, Charlotte's palm moved to cup her stomach. To protect her now empty womb. She noticed Beck's eyebrow raise at her involuntary response, so Charlotte tried to shift his attention back to what he had originally asked, "He's just the local constable with the North West Mounted Police. And, as you so obviously already know, he lives in the row house next to mine."

Charlotte knew she was walking a thin line between telling Beck what he wanted to hear and tipping him over the edge, but she chose to continue. Hoping that talking of Nathan would give her the strength to resist whatever came. "He adopted his niece, Allie, when her mother, Nathan's sister, passed away. Allie is one of my students."

"Was…" Beck's tongue was sharp. "She was one of your students. You're not going back there, Charlotte. It's better for you to realize that sooner rather than later."

Charlotte chose not to respond. What more was there to say? She was with Beck now and to protect those she cared for; she was also at his will.

"You never answered my question last night," Beck took a long swig from his whiskey bottle.

"What question?"

"Did you love him?"

Charlotte swallowed the lump in her throat. She could no longer lie about her feelings for Nathan. Even if the truth cost her everything. "I'll always love him. Knowing Nathan Grant and being able to love him... will always be the best thing that has ever happened in my life, and I'll cling to that until I die."

Beck's face darkened. "Are you in a hurry for that to happen?"

"Do what you want, Beck. Haven't you always?" Charlotte crossed her arms in front of her chest. She wasn't sure if it was to protect herself from the cold or from Beck's smoldering anger.

"He seems to have quite the power over you."

"It was never about power with Nathan."

Beck's face hardened more with each word she spoke. She ignored the warning. She was only thinking of Nathan. "He never held me against my will. Never spoke a single harsh word to me. He has always been such a guiding light. Even when I tried to run away. Even when I told him, I wasn't what he deserved. Just as you said last night. He could have any woman he wanted. Why on God's green earth did he choose me? It never made any sense."

Beck smiled, satisfied he had made his point.

"But no matter what I said or did, Nathan was still there. He has made me feel things, amazing things. It was as though he was turning my whole life inside out. Loving me, always loving me no matter what he learned about my past. No matter what I did. No matter how much I hurt him. He never gave up on me."

"I never gave up on you," Beck's eyes burned like coals. "Remember you ran away from me first. And no matter how much it hurt me, I still loved you."

"Loved me?" Charlotte gritted her teeth. "This isn't love! You act as if you own me. You see me as a pawn. Something to be traded and used to gain you power and standing in this ring of corruption. Nathan loved me. When we would go out, it always seemed as though he wanted to show me off to the world, not as some prized possession, but because he was proud of me. Proud of the woman I was. He would happily stand in the background and watch me in the spotlight with a smile on his face- knowing my success would never be a threat to his masculinity. He brought out the best in me. He made me want to be a better person. He had this ability to make me smile and laugh like no one else ever has. He is the only person who would drop everything just to be with me, at any time, no matter the circumstances."

Charlotte saw the flash of rage in Beck's dark eyes. Oddly she was no longer afraid. There was a stillness inside her. Just thinking about Nathan gave her courage, but she knew it wasn't a courage that would last.

"Charlotte," Beck smiled slightly. "If your Nathan comes. If he 'drops everything just to be with you', I will kill him. And I'm going to make you watch."

Charlotte's courage withered away. Beck saw and smiled again.

Just about the time Nathan felt he had lost all hope, the smell of campfire smoke caught his attention. It was faint, but unmistakable. He had reached the area of the path where it narrowed and became steep with a sharp cliff to the side. This must have been when they decided to untack the horses and continue on foot.

Nathan's spirits rose as he swung down from his horse's back. He was close; he could feel it. Nathan tied Newton's reins to a branch and removed his rifle from the scabbard on the saddle. Before continuing the rest of the way on foot, Nathan ran a reassuring hand along Newton's muscular neck. "Don't worry boy, I'll bring Charlotte back."

Newton nuzzled his head into Nathan's shoulder. Something he only ever did with Charlotte. Nathan was touched by the horse's gesture and patted Newton in appreciation for being such a faithful partner through this all.

"Charlotte, sweetheart. Please hang on just a little longer." Nathan muttered under his breath as he turned to begin the climb up the mountain. His heart was hammering against his chest with trepidation of what lay ahead.

Charlotte looked at him across the fire, schooling her face to show nothing.

Beck studied her with a tight smile. "You've changed. You were always smart. But now you've become quite careless, darling. That's not a wise attribute to have in your current position."

"You've really given me no reason to care what happens to me anymore."

"Do you want me to prove you wrong? I could, you know. Very easily." Beck wrapped his fingers around the neck of his whiskey bottle.

Charlotte stared at his hands. While Beck and Nathan ultimately shared the same profession. Their hands were nothing alike. Beck's hands were without calluses, they were pale and smooth. Able to inflict such pain and unspeakable cruelty.

She remembered Nathan's hands. How she had been such a fool to run from their touch for so many months. When she finally accepted their embrace on her infirmary bed the day of Elizabeth's wedding was when she realized she had found her home. When her petite hand had gently reached for him, folding her fingers into his palm. Giving him a slight squeeze in reassurance as her thumb brushed across his knuckles. Their heartbeats syncing in time with the single touch. Connecting them in a way that was everlasting.

Over this past year, she had memorized every slight rough patch, every fleck, every valley, rise, and ridge of his hands and fingers. How many times on their back steps for morning coffee, would Charlotte become transfixed, running her fingertips along his knuckles, and tracing the lines of his palms. Sometimes she would catch Nathan watching her become mesmerized. A small, blissful smile moving from his lips to his cheeks. His soulful eyes: unwavering, as he would hold his palm steady for her inspection.

Nathan's hands, large and strong, were used for labor. Chopping logs or working with wood. Shoveling stables or hours in the saddle. At first glance, his hands would appear rough and hardened, but when they touched her, it was anything but. They were gentle, soft, tender, and caring. Nathan's touch had healed her body, mind, and soul. They had been the key to opening her heart.

Beck's eyes narrowed coldly. "Why are you smiling like that?"

"Because nothing you do to me really matters."

All those horrible nightmares, the secrets and guilt she had carried, they were all just baggage.

A broken handle on a trunk of heaviness, that Nathan had literally swept in and saved her from the moment she stepped off that stagecoach and into Hope Valley. Pulling her away from danger, away from the weight of everything she had packed and brought with her. Instead of being crushed by her baggage, Nathan had tucked Charlotte gently into the safety of his loving arms and seemingly never let go.

"Don't I matter to you?" Beck mocked. "Can you honestly say you never thought of me while you were away?"

Charlotte scoffed. "Oh, no, Beck. I carried you with me wherever I went." She saw his smug smile and added. "What a waste of precious time."

His mouth pressed into a hard line. He took one last, long pull from his whiskey bottle, smiled at her, and swung it unceremoniously over his left shoulder. The bottle hit the hard trunk of a tree and shattered into a thousand pieces. The broken sound ricocheted off the mountain around them, causing Charlotte's body to flinch.

This was it.

As Beck rose, he staggered slightly. Steadying his weight against the tall pine tree beside him. He gave her a venomous grin. Charlotte's skin grew colder and colder under his gaze. She wanted to bolt, but knew, even if she did so, she would succeed in nothing. It was wiser just to sit still and wait.

Beck came closer, reaching forward he ran a hand through Charlotte's tangled hair and trailed his touch down towards the nape of her neck. "Why do you wear your hair like this now? I always preferred it up. Fresh and controlled. That way it shows off your elegant neck. When it's down it just looks… unkempt and wild. What an embarrassment."

Charlotte struggled to breath. Her mind went back to last week, after Nathan had found her apology letter. When he had combed his fingers into her flowing hair and gently tilted her head back so he could stare into her eyes.

"Did you mean what you said in the letter? About wanting to wake every morning, being curled into my arms, my fingers threaded through your hair like this. The feel of my breath on your skin."

While Beck's touch was currently gentle, his action did not elicit the same reaction from Charlotte's body as Nathan's had.

"What are you thinking about, darling?" Beck cupped the cheek he had struck earlier, running his thumb over its swollen edges.

Nathan. Only Nathan. Charlotte thought to herself. Her face was aflame.

Beck's expression was filled with malicious delight as he pressed her. "Charlotte, you are the only thing that makes me feel any sort of goodness in my life. That's why I couldn't let you go. You're my angel. You are what is going to save me in the end. I need you by my side."

"It's one thing, living a life with someone as your partner, Beck. But all you see me as, is something to control and when I defied you… when I wouldn't let you be my master… when I didn't want to be a part of your darkness anymore. You forced me. You tried to bring me down to your level of despair. The sad thing is… I lived there. For a long time," Charlotte laughed bleakly. "Just as you wanted."

"So what if that's what I wanted," he readily admitted, now tipping her face up roughly. The toxic smell of whiskey on his breath, stung Charlotte's nose, and she gagged. "I have missed you. I have missed the power you gave me."

"You give me too much credit," Charlotte shifted uneasily and saw him smile.

Grabbing her hair, he yanked her head back, and his face came down within inches of her own. "What's happened to you, darling?" he said in a deceptively soft voice. "What will it take to bring back the woman I used to know?"

The woman Beck knew didn't exist anymore. Charlotte thought. That woman found the love of a God and a man that had worked in tandem to turn her world into something that didn't even seem real. A love story that should have never been possible, but not only had it existed, it had thrived.

"Nothing. She is never coming back." Charlotte answered coldly. Her scalp was on fire, her heart in her throat. Beck could break her neck in an instant if he chose to. She wished he would and put an end to all of this.

His dark eyes changed as he glared into hers. Frowning slightly, he eased his grip. "You're no good to me dead." Could he read her mind so easily? Beck let go of her with a hard jerk and stepped away. He paced and staggered by the fire, causing the smoke to swirl and dance around them. He looked back at her warily. "Don't push me, darling."

Charlotte shivered, goosebumps breaking out over her skin. Beck was smiling, eyes laughing at her. He opened his coat slightly, reached into the pocket of his shirt, and then produced the opulent, diamond engagement ring that used to grace her left hand.

"Remember this?" He mocked, holding the ring aloft between his thumb and pointer finger. "Imagine my surprise that night when I got home and found this and that ridiculous letter on my table. I knew you didn't mean what you wrote. I knew that you saw me as your own Prince Charming. Something right out of a storybook. Didn't I grant your every wish? I mean, look at this ring. Do you know how much it cost me?"

"Your soul?" Charlotte's eyes shot daggers at him.

He smiled and walked towards her, kneeling down on one knee, he wrenched Charlotte's left hand from where it rested on her lap, and forced the diamond onto her ring finger. "Now, there can be no question of who you belong to."

Charlotte stared at where the gold band encircled her finger. She felt a burning heat where it touched her skin. Like a brand.

On second thought that was exactly what Beck's engagement ring was to her.

A brand.

Growing up on the ranch, they branded their calves every spring before trailing them to the summer pastures. That way, if the calves were ever stolen by cattle rustlers while out on the open range, they could be identified and returned to the rightful owners.

That was exactly what Beck wanted. His comment confirmed it. With this ring she was branded "his'' for all the world to see. If she strayed, she would be returned to her rightful "owner". Her insides retched as if she could smell her own flesh being burnt by this symbolic branding iron.

Charlotte was then reminded of the night of Fred's adoption ceremony. The night after she had ridden with Nathan out to view Bill's property and talk about their own hopes and dreams for the future. That night when she lay in bed, wondering if Nathan would ever ask her to marry him again, the vision of a ring, Nathan's ring, suddenly appeared on her finger. She remembered the feeling she had with that vision.

Nathan's ring wasn't a brand. It was a promise.

A promise of happiness, blessings, warmth, support, and love.

Laughter and smiles.

A promise that even though there would be dark days, they would always have each other to see it through.

It was a promise of family.

A promise of a future.

"I can't…" Charlotte mumbled the words so softly she wasn't even sure she had spoken them aloud.

"What?" Beck's hand tightened forcefully on hers.

"I can't do this. I can't be with you. This isn't what love feels like. I can't marry you," the words tumbled quickly out of Charlotte.

"Who said anything about marriage?" Beck squeezed her hand, producing a painful cry from Charlotte. She knew if his grip tightened anymore, her fingers would be crushed. "You know as well as I do, no pastor in his right mind would marry you after what you've done."

Charlotte's body tensed and her eyes blurred.

"We don't need a slip of paper or… God's blessing," Beck mocked. "We didn't need it last time to be together. We don't need it now."

He leaned down to kiss her; she turned her face away. Beck's hard fingers clamped on her cheeks like a vice, forcing her head up. He held her there, a devilish look spreading across his face as he trailed his right hand to the hem of her skirt touching her skin below.

Charlotte shuddered and tried to push her body away, but her back met with the resistance of the tree trunk behind her. Charlotte's hands clawed into the ground at her sides. Dirt sinking deep beneath her fingernails.

Suddenly her right hand brushed against something hard and jagged, her fingers wrapped tightly around the heavy stone, and with all the force she could muster, Charlotte swung her arm around, finding its mark, striking Beck in his temple. His body instantly crumpled across her lap. She shook and kicked out her legs and arms until she was free from his dead weight.

Blood seeped from his injury, its crimson red stain now also coated her scarf and jacket. Despite the biting cold, she shed the garments. Her hand encircled the gold band Beck had forced on her. In one motion, Charlotte jerked the ring from her finger and hurled it into the dancing campfire flames where it belonged. Ridding her body and soul of the final remnants of her burdened past.