The way Nathan Grant swept into the Queen of Hearts, anyone could clearly see he was a man on a mission. Immediately spotting Lucas and Bill, he looked to his right and left and then joined them.

"Captain Martyn here?" he asked.

Bill nodded. "Yeah, he showed up a few minutes after you took off. What was the big emergency?"

"Where is he now?" Grant responded.

"Upstairs, getting cleaned up after a long trip."

"Let's go back to your office," Nathan said, looking toward Lucas, who gave a slight nod, knowing whatever he had to say was a matter of some urgency.

Stepping into the room, Grant shut the door behind them and asked Lucas to sit.

Lucas cocked his head. "Why? What's going on?"

"I just need you to sit down. Don't argue."

Lucas shrugged, moved over to the settee, and sat. "Alright?"

Nathan looked toward Bill.

"What? You want me to sit too?" Avery asked.

"No. I need you to listen. I saw her."

Avery and Bouchard exchanged confused glances.

"Who?" Bill asked.

"Jenny," Nathan said, turning toward Lucas. "She was here."

Lucas's face went pale. "M-My Jenny? Here? In Hope Valley?"

Nathan shook his head. "She was at the Mercantile. I know it was her! She was riding a horse, and I ran to catch her, then she turned to look at me. She was the same woman in the photograph. Dark brown hair and the most unusual light green eyes. She dropped this," he said, removing a cloth-covered item from his jacket and handing it to Lucas.

Bouchard looked at the cloth handkerchief in his hand and unwrapped its contents carefully. He caught his breath when he saw what it was. The item rolled from his hand to the floor.

Bill knelt and picked it up. "An arrowhead?" he said, squinting his eyes.

A stunned Lucas stared straight ahead, tears again building in his eyes. "It belongs to my sister. I gave it to her when we were children."

Nathan looked at Bill and then back to Lucas. "So, I'm right?"

Lucas nodded quietly, his eyes revealing a mind that was racing. Suddenly, he leaped from his seat, heading toward the door.

"Where are you going?" Grant asked.

"We've got to find her! She has to be near if she stopped by the Mercantile."

"I already chased after her and lost her," Nathan replied. "She could be miles away by now."

"Not so," Lucas said, grabbing his jacket. "Remember, she has my niece and nephew."

Nathan considered that fact. "You're right. So, she probably is close by. But I don't want you to go. If she's spooked enough to run like that, she may shoot first and ask questions later."

"I could go," Avery said.

"No, I need you to stay here and entertain Martyn," Grant replied. "She hasn't broken any laws, and we don't want her treated like a criminal. Besides, the New Orleans P.D. has no business stepping into our business."

"Then it's you and me," Lucas said, reaching for the door handle.

"I'm not going to be able to stop you, am I?" Nathan asked.

"I'm going," Lucas replied. "With you or without you."

Nathan grimaced, "Fine. But we stay together. I know how you like to run off on your own."

"I'll be right by your side," Lucas smiled.

Grant looked toward Avery, "You'll take care of our visitor?"

"Consider it done," Bill responded.

"Kids back yet?" Jenny said, walking out of the bedroom into the cabin's main room.

"No," Lydia replied. She was seated at the table with a piece of paper in her hand, sipping coffee. "They hadn't been gone long when you came home. 'spect they'll be a while."

Jenny went to the stove and picked up the coffee pot, pouring the bitter 'cowboy coffee' into a tin cup they'd brought in their travels. She took a sip and made a face. It was lousy coffee. Oh, how she wished for a calming cup of tea.

XXXXX

"And just what would the two of you be doing? Didn't you hear us calling you for dinner?" Martin Bouchard asked, walking up to his children who were seated on the balcony, each with a teacup in hand, looking out past their lawn.

Jenny took a sip from her cup, then set it on her saucer.

"We're waiting for the sun to set," she said. "I told Lucas it's one of the prettiest sights I've ever seen."

Lucas looked up toward his father, who had pulled a pocket watch out to look at the time.

"May we stay a while longer?" he asked earnestly.

Martin tried to appear stern but seldom could when his children were involved.

"I'll give you fifteen minutes," he said, sure that it would allow enough time for Lucas and Jenny to see what they wanted to see. "But if you're not down there by then, you shall deal with your mother!" He passed Lucas his pocket watch just in case, and tried to suppress a smile as the boy studied the numbers closely, noting the time, then turned to look at the sky.

XXXXX

"I'm glad the two of them can get out and do something fun," Jenny said. "Kids need to have fun."

"That's true," Lydia said. "Don't suppose your childhood was much fun."

"It was for a time," Jenny replied, sitting down. She looked closer at Lydia. "What do you have there?"

Lydia held up the page in her hand. "Newspaper. The Valley Voice. It was stuffed in the grocery sack that you brought home. I figured you had bought it."

"No. They must have given us a complimentary copy," Jenny replied, looking at the cover. She leaned closer when she saw the words Constable Grant on the cover. Grant. The blue-eyed Mountie. Lydia turned the page, and Jenny reached out her hand.

"May I see?"

"You can have it all," The elder woman said, handing the entire edition to her foster daughter. "I need to be starting dinner anyway."

"Do you need me to do something?" Jenny asked.

"No, just stay there and read. You went through all the trouble buying our food; the least I can do is fix it."

Jenny took another sip from the coffee and read the news about Nathan. Constable Grant rescues Mother Raccoon and Her Kits from the Weise family attic. "Hmm…" she said, moving to the next article. Timmy Lawson Wins the Science Fair. Her eyes lighted on a third article. Lee Coulter's Niece, Rachel, and her husband, Christopher, are expecting a child later this summer. Another. Minnie Canfield wins First Place at Local Bake Sale. The more she read, the more she got the impression that Hope Valley was a peaceful little town without a whole lot of excitement and where neighbor helped neighbor -just the kind of place she wanted for herself and her children to settle down.

I wonder if Mountie Grant is married? Jenny stopped for a moment. Where did that thought come from? The last thing she wanted in her life was another man. Jenny had married David Drake when she was eighteen, and he was twenty-seven in the hope that they could start a new life away from his father Solomon, but the move only cemented her to him. And while David was much kinder than his father, he exhibited many of the same weaknesses – ultimately resulting in him preceding Solomon in death in a bar brawl. How ironic it was that Solomon also died in a bar. She needed to find the person who finally silenced that evil man and give him an award!

Her thoughts returned to Nathan. He seemed the opposite of the Drake men, strong and good. It sounded like he had a daughter named Allie, so he must be married. Perhaps Allie was around her children's ages, and their families could become friends. But could she do that? Could she actually become a friend to the local police after all that had happened to her? It would certainly be a change, but this was a season where change seemed possible, even necessary. Maybe this was the place.

"Shhhh….someone's coming!"

"What?"

"I hear someone coming. Let's go hide!" Jo said to her brother as the two scurried along the mountainside, ducking behind some brush.

"She was tough as nails, even as a child," Lucas said, his horse trotting next to Nathan as they followed the trail through the mountains looking for any sign of Jenny. "As a matter of fact, I recall a time when we were racing one another through the house trying to see who could get to the mail the fastest. I was winning until we got to the large, curved staircase we had in the house in New Orleans. I started down the steps, but Jenny climbed onto the handrail. I watched in horror as she swooped right past me and slid full force into the baluster below. She hit so hard that it bounced her off the stair rail onto the floor. I ran down the stairs, expecting to see broken into a million pieces at the foot of the steps, but she'd already popped right up from the floor and beat me to the door."

Nathan laughed. "She sounds a little like Allie. I can't tell you how many cuts and bruises she showed up with at home when she was little. No idea how she received them. As a matter of fact, one time, when she was around seven, she walked into the house with this big knot on her forehead. I asked her what had happ-" Nathan stopped, throwing out his arm. "Whoa! Look out!"

Nathan's warning came too late for Lucas and his horse, as the animal's leg crossed paths with a length of fishing line triggering a series of events. Immediately upon tripping the wire, two cloth-covered branches, tied together in the shape of a plus sign, came swinging out from the woodside. The horse reared, hurling Lucas to the ground, and then it ran, tripping a second wire that dumped a bucket of fish and creek water over Lucas's head. It all happened so quickly; Bouchard had no time to react before it was over.

Nathan dismounted and ran to his friend's side, offering Lucas a hand. He screwed up his face when he got a whiff of the watery substance that now covered his cohort. "You okay?" he asked.

Bouchard spit a little water out of his mouth, wiped his face with his sleeve, and then looked up at Grant. "I'm okay," he said, reaching for Nathan's hand.

Just then, the two men heard the sound of giggling coming from the mountainside, followed by a shush.

Bouchard's eyes shot toward Nathan, who continued helping the other man up even as both of their eyes scanned the neighboring woodland.

"Is someone there?" Nathan asked. He was met by silence.

"We're not going to hurt you," Lucas added. "Josephine?"

The men suddenly heard a gasp followed by a small commotion. Their eyes darted in that direction where they saw the brush moving. Lucas saw the face of the young boy from the photograph looking in his direction and yelled out, "Hey!"

Immediately, the two children leaped up from their place and began running up the hill.

"It's him! It's that man," they heard the boy tell his sister as the men began chasing them up the hill.

"Who?"

"The one from the store," he replied.

Jo turned her head, seeing that the men were gaining ground. "Hurry, Luke!" she said just as she disappeared over the hilltop, followed by her brother.

Lucas and Nathan stood at the same spot moments later, but amazingly, the children were nowhere to be seen. Nathan looked to the right and the left, but they had seemingly disappeared. He turned toward Lucas, whose expression was hard to describe.

"Do you see where they went?"

Lucas stared ahead and slowly shook his head. "She called him Luke."

Nathan considered his words and their import, then put his hand on Lucas's shoulder. "She named him after you."

Lucas's eyebrows fluttered, and Nathan tilted his head.

"Oh, no. You're not going to cry again, are you?" Grant asked.

"Uh-huh."

Nathan rolled his eyes as Lucas reached for a handkerchief, which by rare occurrence, was not in his breast pocket. Lucas felt around his jacket.

"Oh, for Pete's sake!" Nathan said, reaching into his pocket and retrieving his own. He reached out to Lucas, who now had one hand on his hip and was rubbing his face and eyes with his hand.

"Here," Nathan said, bouncing the back of his hand off Lucas's arm. Bouchard sniffed, then took the item presented, promptly blowing his nose. Lucas offered it back.

"That's okay, keep it," the Mountie said, looking again over the field. "You know, you never used to be so emotional."

Lucas nodded. "I've held a lot inside. But, in my defense, think if this were Colleen."

Grant only had to briefly imagine how he would feel if his sister Colleen were with them again when he began to feel choked up. He sniffed and looked away. "Say no more."

Lucas pocketed the kerchief and scanned the mountainside. "I wonder where they went. They just disappeared."

Nathan shrugged. "Don't worry, we'll find them. As you said earlier, they couldn't have gone far. Now let's find your horse and get you back to town so you can change your clothes. You stink."

Lucas smelled his shoulder and then wrinkled his nose. "Right."

As the two men walked away, Jo turned to Luke from their nearby hiding spot and whispered. "Was that the bad man?"

"No," Luke replied. "He was the guy I saw at Mr. Jasper's. I wonder what he wants?"

Jo turned to make sure the men were gone. "I don't know. But we need to tell Mama."

"I think you're right," Luke replied.

The men arrived back at Hope Valley a little before three in the afternoon, and Lucas quickly drew a bath while Nathan pulled out a map of the area he kept at the house. By this point, Grant knew the mountains better than almost anyone in the area, and he also knew that finding someone in them was sometimes like looking for a needle in the proverbial haystack. Too many alcoves and trails to move blindly through the forest. He decided to map out several alternatives, then he, Lucas, and perhaps Joseph or Lee would try again in the morning.

After cleaning up, Lucas called Elizabeth and asked if she would prepare dinner for just their family, including Helen and Martin. He had something important that he wanted to share with them but didn't want to do it at the Saloon. Then, he and Nathan went into town, the latter having been informed by Bill while Lucas was in the tub that he and the captain were meeting in his office and going through the process of sorting through the copious amount of material that the lawman had brought. Copious. One look at the boxes in Bill's office showed this was no exaggeration.

Bill ceased conversing and stood upon the men's entry.

"Thomas Martyn, I'd like you to meet Lucas Bouchard, Jenny Bouchard's older brother, and, of course, you've spoken with Constable Grant."

Martyn stood and walked to greet them, giving each a firm handshake.

"It was terrible what happened to your sister," the grey-bearded man said, his hazel eyes portraying anger that one might expect from a veteran cop of one of New Orleans' most notorious districts. "Unfortunately, we've had several such disappearances throughout the years, despite Storyville's existence."

"Storyville?" Bill asked.

"Nickname for 'the district,' brainchild of Sidney Story, one of our esteemed councilmen. Story was concerned about the spread of prostitution in the city and promoted the idea of designating a specific district to contain such vice legally. It gained public support because of the white slavery scare."

"White slavery?" Grant asked.

"The contention that white women and girls were being forced against their will through being kidnapped or tricked into prostitution. The truth is, many of the women down there were runaways, and many still are – but the numbers that would fall into the category of a 'slave' weren't that high. Most were there because it was a way for a woman to make an independent living, or so they thought. There were over 200 brothels within a few blocks in the heart of the city, along with illicit gambling and disreputable saloons….First thing you'd see when you stepped off the train."

"I'm aware," Lucas replied.

Thomas squinted his eyes. "You are?"

"I lived in New Orleans, briefly, about seven years ago, and the first thing I saw disembarking my train from Montreal gave me quite an eyeful."

Thomas chuckled. "That would have been one of Stella's ladies, I'm guessing. We've warned them about their, um…lack of apparel while waiting for customers fresh off the train. Of course, they were physically inside the bordello, so there was nothing we could do regarding arrest. What part of New Orleans did you live in? I never saw you around."

"I lived there for a couple of years while working for a small brokerage firm on Royal Street. I boarded at a home on Chestnut, not far from there. It was owned by a widow friend of mine, Jeanette Alcoin."

"Wife of Jean Pierre Alcoin, the baseball player?" he asked.

"You've heard of him?" Lucas asked.

"Yes. My brother Charles was a pitching coach for the Pelicans when Alcoin played. Small world. Jeanette used to make these pastries for the team covered in chocolate."

"Profiteroles," Bouchard replied. "Her specialty. J.P. was my best friend; he and I would eat ourselves into a coma on her baked goods."

Thomas nodded. "Charles was diabetic, so he'd bring them home to me. That's why I remember her name. I was sorry to hear of J.P.'s accident."

Lucas shook his head. "He should have never taken that boat out in bad weather. It was senseless."

"Death rarely makes sense, especially for the young. And then I heard something about her business burning down shortly afterward?"

Lucas nodded. "Another senseless act."

Martyn nodded and then looked toward Nathan and Bill. "That's why we're in the business we are in, aren't we, gentleman - to try to make sense out of senseless acts? And in this case, the kidnapping of your sister, the motivator was probably money. Young girls can fetch a pretty penny on the open market."

"Wouldn't they have stood to make more by just holding her for ransom – given the Bouchards are well-heeled?" Bill asked.

"Maybe – probably. But perhaps whoever took her didn't want to risk asking for a ransom for someone from such a well-connected family. It's much easier to get rid of a nobody rather than a somebody. Still, if that's what he did with her, I feel sorry for her and you."

The New Orleans police captain noticed a look that passed between Bouchard and Nathan and raised his eyebrows.

"Is there something you're not telling me?" he asked.

"Nothing to note," Nathan replied. "We're just trying to get our bearings. How long are you going to be around?"

"As long as these records are kept in Hope Valley. I'm under orders from my superior, who should be here tomorrow."

"Isn't that a bit overkill for a murder that happened a decade ago?" Grant asked.

"It's part of a larger case. Preserving the chain of custody on evidence is essential. Why? Don't you want me around?" Martyn asked.

Nathan paused a second, then grinned. "You're fine. Just curious."

Lucas stepped outside of the car on one side as his father did the same on the other, helping Helen to exit the vehicle. The ride to Elizabeth's had been mostly quiet, with some small talk about the weather, and Lucas was ready to be inside and see his fiancée.

The door opened quickly before he could knock, with Jack smiling up at the threesome. "Well, hello, little man," Helen said, her eyes softening at the sight of her almost grandson. Lucas wasted no time picking up his small buddy and holding him close while he tickled his belly, bringing the giggles that always made him feel better.

"Everyone, come in," Elizabeth called from the kitchen, her guests all entering and closing the door behind them.

As they greeted each other briefly, Lucas kissed her cheek and took her hand. "Will dinner hold a few moments?"

"Of course."

Elizabeth had made her famous chicken and dumplings, as it was one of Lucas's favorites, and they were on a warm burner for the present. She had learned the basic recipe from Abigail but had made a few tweaks that made them her own. She smiled as she thought of the first time she made them for him, wondering how he would react to the home cooking. She was pleasantly surprised when he had three helpings. Hopefully, his parents would like the dish as well.

With everyone being gathered in the living room, Lucas asked the others to sit while he remained standing. He had placed Jack on the floor, who quickly ran over to play with his toys while the adults talked.

"What's going on, Lucas?" Elizabeth asked, seeing the light in his eyes.

"I have some news."

"I hope it's good news, son," Martin replied as they each patiently waited to hear what he would say.

"It is. Uh... I'm not sure how to say this, but... Jenny was in Hope Valley today."

"What?!" It seemed the words were said in unison by the threesome, Helen's hands covering her mouth in surprise. "You saw her?" she softly asked.

"Tell us everything, Lucas," his father responded, Lucas seeing the tears in the man's eyes.

"Actually, it was Nathan that saw her. She was in the mercantile buying a few things, and he saw her as she mounted her horse to leave. He pursued, but she slipped away."

"Oh no. I'm so sorry, Lucas," Elizabeth stood and took his hand in hers. "What do we do now?"

"Well, there's more. Nathan and I went out later to try and find her, but we found her children instead. Or I should say, almost found. They found us. The two little rascals set up a booby trap, and I ended up being the recipient of their prank."

"Were you hurt?" Elizabeth's concerned gaze examined his face.

"Only my pride," he replied with a slight laugh. "They got away, but..." he stopped, then cleared his throat.

"But what, son?" Martin encouraged.

"We heard Josephine call her brother's name. She called him Luke..." His voice quivered as he said the name, Elizabeth now taking him in her arms to calm him. She wrapped her arms around his waist, and he hugged her closely.

"She named her son after you..." Helen's words were gently spoken as she wiped the corner of her eye.

"It seems so."

"What happens now?" Martin stood and began pacing.

"We will go out again and search further. I won't stop until we find them."

"I will go with you," Martin said.

Elizabeth heard the strength and determination in both Bouchard men's voices and did not doubt that they would indeed find Jenny and her children very soon.

It had been a very long journey so far after two days of traveling. The truth of the matter is that Claude Fontaine hated riding the railroad. It was too confining, even in the fancy first-class dining car he was sitting in. Fontaine liked his space and enjoyed moving around, so three days of restriction was quite stressful on the normally active man. At least he had a berth on the train and didn't have to sleep sitting up like the people riding coach. Long gone were those days.

Looking at his pocket watch, Claude realized that Captain Martyn should have arrived in Hope Valley earlier in the day, as Thomas had left the day before he did. Fontaine had explained his coming on the basis that he knew the Bouchards from years gone by and had always regretted not being able to return the girl to her parents safely. If Jenny indeed were alive, he wanted to be a part of rectifying that failure. Martyn did not need to know his real reasons.

Carefully looking around, he slyly pulled a flask from his pocket and poured a nice serving of what was now considered contraband into his now empty coffee cup. Being on the police force did have its advantages- this particular benefit coming from a recent confiscation of fine Kentucky bourbon, which he had put aside under lock and key. We couldn't tempt the officers on the force, could we? The key to storage was left in the open where anyone could reach it, but no one on the force would be foolish enough to try to steal any of the brew – except for him, of course. With each bottle that he emptied, one carefully refilled with tea would be put in its place. With their backlog, the accused bootlegger wouldn't go to trial for months, and by that time, there would be no evidence left to convict and no way of knowing who switched out their fine whiskey for grandma's morning drink.

Of course, nobody would suspect him, given his alliance with the prohibition league. Such had been the game he'd played for years – publicly proclaiming one thing while privately doing the opposite behind the scenes. He'd done it with friendships, business, and even with his enforcement of the law. It should have bothered him to be so deceptive, but it didn't. If people were too stupid to see what he was doing, that was their problem. Years ago, he learned that if you wanted something, you just had to grab it while you could because once an opportunity was lost, it could seldom be regained.

As he took a long swig, he swallowed it slowly, feeling the sweet burn all the way down his throat. It was a shame that this deliciousness wasn't legal anymore, and yet, how else could he get it for free?

He sat alone and looked out the window at the passing scenery before reaching to the seat next to him and retrieving his case that never left his side. Unlatching it, he removed a book, placing it on the table in front of him, glancing around again to make sure he wasn't observed. Opening the cover, he began to peruse the pages inside- newspaper clippings mostly of cases he had worked on over the years.

Flipping through, he glanced at many of the stories and remembered many of them until he finally landed on the page he was looking for. Missing child, read the headline on the now-yellowed paper, with a photo underneath and above the article. Staring at the picture, Claude poured another drink, a little bolder now, and shot it down. His eyes never left the clipping as he swallowed, a frown now noticeable as he took a deep breath and exhaled loudly.

The photo was of Helen and Jenny Bouchard and had been recent at the time. Jenny, with her long dark hair and penetrating green eyes, sat next to her mother. After a few moments, Fontaine reached over with his thumb and covered Jenny's face as he stared intently at Helen, then moved his thumb slightly and stroked the beautiful woman's face.

"If only you had chosen me, Mrs. Bouchard," he murmured to no one, his frown deepening. "But every choice has repercussions."