Authors' Note: This chapter is somewhat intense and contains elements of violence. Reader discretion is advised.

Fontaine exited the hotel, straightening his jacket as he surveyed the Main Street of Hope Valley. "You never know who you might run into," he smirked as he made sure his tie was in place. Running a hand alongside his head, he turned to the left to begin his morning walk.

He had to admit seeing Helen again had caused a tidal wave of old feelings. He felt young again, alive. On the outside, he tried to appear nonchalant, strolling along the boulevard and stopping on occasion to glance into windows as if he was merely stretching his legs. But the truth of the matter was he was euphoric at the thought of seeing her.

In the short time that he'd been in Hope Valley, he'd already observed that Helen liked the nearby pond. He had seen her there several times. And so, when he left that morning, he did so in the hope that this is where she would be today. Of course, he would make it seem like a coincidence that they'd run into each other that morning – no need to show his cards before he made his play. Just handle her smoothly, like the delicate rose that she was.

Making his way around the loop, Claude turned left by the mayor's office and continued along his way. When he reached the end of the block at Miller and Sons, he looked toward the church and was pleased to see his hopes were not unfounded. There she was - her tiny frame draped in a flowing green garment, a lone figure slowly sauntering around the water. She was so beautiful, he wanted to weep.

Taking a deep breath, he made his way towards her, pretending to take in the sights, if you could call them that in this Podunk Hollow. It would be good to get back to the big city, he thought, hopefully with his lady love on his arm.

Seeing his approaching form in her peripheral, Helen turned to greet him. "Why Claude, it seems we meet again on this fine morning."

Her smile brought one to his face as well. "Good morning, Helen. You look as lovely as ever. Care if I join you?"

Helen nodded her assent, and the two quickly fell into step together.

"Do you have your costume for the ball yet?" he asked. "I'll bet you are going as Cinderella…or better yet, Helen of Troy, the most beautiful woman in the ancient world."

"Flatterer," she chuckled with a light slap to his arm. "I do have my costume, but you will have to be patient along with everyone else to see what it is."

"Very well. I can't wait."

The corners of Helen's mouth turned up. "I hope this plan works and Jenny is brought back to us. Thank you for coming up with the idea."

"I was only doing my duty. You didn't hear it from me, but I think these small-town constables need all the help they can get. It's a wonder they get anything done around here. I'm glad I arrived when I did, and I hope I can restore your long-lost daughter to you."

"I hope so too, Claude," Helen replied as she placed her hand on his arm.

At the edge of the drive, Lucas's black Dodge drove near. Lucas and his father were out running errands and were busy chatting when the elder Bouchard abruptly stopped speaking.

"Is something wrong?" Lucas asked, glancing toward Martin, who was staring toward the church.

"Take me back to the hotel."

Lucas turned his head and immediately spotted the reason for his father's demeanor. Helen and Claude were just rounding the bend of the pond, and she was holding onto the officer's arm. He tightened his jaw, then sighed, pulling to the side of the road and parking his car. "I don't think I will," Lucas said. "At least not yet."

"What are you doing?" Martin asked.

Lucas opened the car door. "I believe I'm going to pay them a visit. Suggest you stay in the car."

"Son!"

"Don't worry. I won't be long."

The younger Bouchard made his way across the grass and headed toward the walking pair. Helen saw him and immediately removed her hands from Claude's arm. She looked toward the street and saw her husband in the car and lowered her head.

"Good afternoon, you two," Lucas said, trying to appear as disimpassioned as he could, though his anger was seething.

"Good day," Claude replied. "It appears this is a popular spot."

"It is," Bouchard replied. "I'm assuming you were speaking to my mother because you have been working hard and have news about my sister?"

Claude straightened up. This kid was good. "Um, unfortunately, no. I…um…I was up all night trying to determine if we had missed anything and thinking about what we needed to do at the ball."

"I'm sure you were. And I suppose that you found this 'thinking' so stressful that you just decided to take a stroll at the very place my mother goes several times a day…just…to clear your mind?"

"Lucas, really!" Helen responded.

Fontaine smirked. "I was simply passing by."

"Right," Lucas replied. "Well, when you two have finished with your walk, I would very much like to speak with my mother in my office alone." He narrowed his eyes and looked toward Fontaine. "Oh, and Mr. Fontaine, stay out of trouble."

With that, he turned on his heels and returned to his car.

"What did you say?" Martin asked, afraid to press too much given his son's expression.

"Let's just say he's on notice," Lucas replied, starting the car. "Shall we?"

In Benson Hills, Captain Thomas Martyn stepped out of the barbershop and rubbed a hand along his now smooth jawline. It was the first time in twenty years that he was clean-shaven, and it felt different. He wasn't certain of how he was going to handle Fontaine, though he wasn't in the least surprised how things had ended up. The Deputy Superintendent was nothing if not predictable. But the time for Fontaine's shenanigans had come to an end. He, himself, would see to it.

Crossing the street towards a menswear shop, he stopped when he spotted a flyer in the window. It featured a photograph of the future Mr. and Mrs. Lucas Bouchard. Reading the words, he merely rolled his eyes.

"But of course, you did," he said with a sardonic chuckle. Immediately, his thoughts turned to Sun Tzu's Art of War. "So, the opportunity of defeating the enemy truly is provided by the enemy himself. Why, thank you, Fontaine, for making this easy."

"It's been a lovely walk, Claude. Thank you for sharing it with me," Helen said as they neared the doors of the hotel.

Turning toward her, Fontaine had to gather his thoughts as he looked into her beautiful brown eyes. He took one of her dainty hands in both of his. "I'm here for you, Helen. I will always be here for you."

"I know you will. I hate that we lost touch all these years. You've always been a good friend."

Fontaine froze as she spoke, his brow furrowing as he tried to hold his smile. A quick nod later, and he opened the door for her to enter before him. As they stood just inside the doors, Claude saw a quick movement out of the corner of his eye and turned to find Martin Bouchard's finger pointed at his chest.

"I know what you are up to, Fontaine," Martin disclosed angrily. "But I will not allow it!"

"Martin, please," Helen begged, her voice low as she looked around and saw several patrons looking their way. Mike rushed to get Lucas.

"Don't try to defend him, Helen. He has always had an eye for you. But this is the last straw. I'm warning you, Fontaine, if I see you near my wife again, I will kill you! Don't test me on this!"

Claude squared back his shoulders and stepped forward. "I don't take lightly to threats, Bouchard."

Leaving his lunch on the table, Nathan stood and stepped between the two men as Lucas appeared from his office. "Step back, both of you. Unless you want to spend some time in a lovely cell I have for folks who can't get along in my town," Grant said.

Both men took a step back but continued to glare at one another.

"I meant what I said," Martin said.

"As did I," Fontaine replied.

Lucas approached the scene. "Father, would you mind retrieving that shirt with the tear in it? Our seamstress, Mary, should be stopping by in a short while to retrieve some other garments that I need for her to take in."

Martin nodded toward his son, but his eyes remained fixed on Fontaine. Turning to leave, he mounted the stairs, and moments later, the entire restaurant heard a loud slam from his bedroom door.

"Thank you, Nathan," Lucas said. He turned toward Helen. "I believe it may be time for that conversation in my office, Mother. After you," he said, gesturing with his hand for her to precede him.

"I gather my son has brought me back here to give me another one of his famous lectures? Should I grab Dr. Bennett?" Helen asked sarcastically as she entered Lucas's office.

"No, Mother. Your son has brought you back here to keep you from tossing a forty-year marriage down the drain for some arrogant braggart who has designs on you."

"Designs? Really, Lucas! You're being ridiculous."

"Am I? Mother, you're acting like some naïve schoolgirl who is giddy because some older boy at Preparatory Academy is paying her some attention."

"Nonsense. Claude is just a friend."

"Is he? Then why is he following you all over town? And why, when we were supposed to be out searching for my sister, was I treated to tales of your legendary beauty and your sweetness, and how you used to go out for walks in the park under the moonlight and how my father never deserved you and how now that he's made Superintendent or Deputy or whatever it is, he can now afford to give any woman the life she deserves and how you would be very pleased with how well he's done for himself."

Helen was genuinely surprised by what she heard. "I never gave him that encouragement."

"Didn't you? Were you not laughing with him by the lake or taking your tea with him late at night in the saloon? Were you not holding his hand?"

"I don't like what you are insinuating."

"I don't like it either, Mother, particularly as my father stands grief-stricken while his marriage hangs by a thread and the love of his life is walking around acting like some common trollop. He-"

The sound and sting of his mother's hand going across his face brought an abrupt halt to any further conversation, shocking both Lucas and Helen. And as he stood, with mouth slightly agape, the confusion in her son's eyes immediately brought a sense of clarity to Helen's mind. Lucas closed his mouth and swallowed, then looked toward the floor.

Helen raised her hand toward his face, touching his cheek. "Oh, Lucas…oh…my sweet boy…I'm so sorry. I've behaved atrociously. In trying to protect myself from further anguish, I've erected a wall around myself that has kept me from the very people I love more than life: your father and you. Can you ever forgive me?" she said, throwing her arms around his waist and laying her head on his chest.

Her son stepped back then raised his pain-filled eyes toward her and enveloped her tiny fingers in her hand. "I forgive you, Mother," he said with a rueful smile. "I shouldn't have referred to you by that name. But it's father who needs to hear those words."

Helen shook her head. "You are right," she said, stepping back slightly and taking his hand. "I need to fix this. I need to tell both Claude and your father exactly how I feel. My heart has always belonged to Martin, and it always will."

The next morning, Helen rose early to do what she needed to do. Martin and Claude had always had a rivalry that she had never taken seriously until a half-serious challenge to a duel split their friendship apart. But that was forty years ago. After a lifetime spent with her husband, a life that included two children and several moves, Helen never even considered that Claude could still be carrying a flame for her. But, after listening to Lucas, she knew it was true. In her loneliness and despair over her and Martin's quarrel, she'd inadvertently allowed herself to be flattered and had apparently encouraged Fontaine's attention, even though that wasn't what was in her heart. Now, she needed to repair what she had done.

Helen dressed and went downstairs, looking toward the window where she could see the superintendent taking his usual tea and newspaper at one of the tables on the porch. Immediately, she went outside to see him.

"Good morning, Claude," she said, standing beside his table.

Fontaine looked up. "Why, I thought a fresh ray of sunshine had just pierced the sky, lighting its way to my heart – and here you are," he grinned. "Please, join me," he said, beginning to stand.

Helen reached out and shook her head. "No, I shall remain standing."

Fontaine looked confused. "As you wish. Is something wrong?"

Helen could barely make eye contact as a sudden feeling of shame swept over her. This man really liked her, and she was there to reject his efforts. But it was something she had to do and do quickly. Whatever the two of them had together wasn't at all what he thought it was, and it wasn't fair to allow it to continue.

"I'm afraid I owe you an apology," she began. "It seems that I've allowed you to believe that our relationship is something that it is not."

"Helen?" Fontaine said, his heart beginning to sink.

"Claude, when we were younger, you were a very good friend to me. You kept me company at a time when Martin was too busy to attend to what we had, and I enjoyed spending time with you – as a friend. And despite the fact that things went sour between you and my husband, I still held those times in fond regard. I had always believed that Martin was exaggerating when it came to your affections, and when it came to that silly duel, I had convinced myself that you weren't really serious about it, or else you would have followed through."

"I didn't follow through because I knew it was illegal," Claude replied. "And it would have separated us from each other forever."

"That right there is the problem," she said. "There is no 'us,' nor has there ever been. Nor, I must add, will there ever be. You see, when Martin Bouchard walked into my life, my world was changed. I never intended to marry at all. I wanted to be a writer, to go the way of Alcott and Shelley, of Browning and Bronte, and then to go beyond that – to own my own publishing house where I could publish quality literature and spend my days reading books. Oh, I know it was frivolity, but in my teenage mind, it was the dream that I chose to dream until Martin came along. And while I must admit that his exterior appearance did not initially attract me to him, his inner character, his brilliant intellect, and his singular devotion eventually won my heart. Martin is a kind man, a gentleman, and always and forever, I will belong to him and no other."

At that moment, Martin Bouchard reached the bottom of the stairs, planning on visiting his son's office to discuss the coming hours. He looked to his left and saw them talking, his wife and Fontaine, and he filled with rage. Turning toward the bar, he called on Pete to give him a glass of whiskey.

"This early?" the bartender asked. Martin didn't reply. He just took the glass and bottle, looked toward the window, and returned to his room.

"Which is why I can no longer see you," Helen replied. "While my husband and I are having some problems, he is still my husband, and I love him with all my heart. I would rather die than hurt him. You have my utmost gratitude for what you are doing to find our Jenny, but in terms of our relationship, my family comes first, and they always will. I'm sorry. But this is goodbye."

The days since Nan and the kids left had been quiet, and regardless of the fact that Jenny felt a sense of peace knowing they all were safe, she found herself pacing in the morning hours. There wasn't much to clean in the cabin, so she spent her time outside. And with no one to talk to, Jenny found herself humming more than usual.

Reaching into her pocket out of habit, Jenny was again reminded of the lost arrowhead that she cherished. Would she ever see it again? Of course, reuniting with her brother and family would more than makeup for its loss. She smiled as she thought of being with Lucas again. Would he remember her? She knew he would. But he must have believed she was killed; else, why didn't he look for her? She mourned for the loss he must have felt.

When she looked down and saw the slight rut in the dirt that could only be caused by her incessant pacing, Jenny decided to take a ride and went to saddle the horse that was left behind. As she set out on her journey, she soon found herself drawing near to Hope Valley despite the risk. She was drawn to the little town because Lucas was there. She had to see him. She had to let him know she was alive and that there was a bad man in his midst. Until she did, she couldn't rest.

Stopping her horse at the edge of town, Jenny considered what her next step might be. At first, she thought of going to the saloon, which is where she'd seen Lucas standing with his lady. But then she remembered who else had entered. Perhaps the Mountie. Maybe she could find him, and he could reach her brother, and together, they could protect her – bringing her assailant to justice. Her heart began pounding as she thought about it. Yes, maybe she would go directly to Constable Grant for protection. She would go find the Mountie.

Riding her horse down the avenue behind the buildings, she rode past Coulter Lumber and the Barbershop and up to the Mountie station. She was just about to dismount when she heard the voice of the one she sought.

"Hey there, Henry," Nathan said, walking across the sidewalk to speak to the former town mayor.

"Nathan," Henry said. "Pleasant morning."

"It is," Grant replied. "Were you just with Fiona?"

"Yeah," Henry replied. "Needed a trim, and she wasn't busy, so…."

"Good," Nathan responded, running his hand over the back of his hair, which was nearing the edge of his collar. "I was thinking about dropping in myself before the big event."

"Getting dressed up requires a haircut?" Henry asked.

Nathan chuckled. "Well, if I'm going to be a knight in shining armor."

Henry laughed. "Armor?"

Nathan tilted his head back and forth. "Not really armor. Really just a helmet and cape, oh, and of course the sword. I'm going as King Arthur."

Henry thought for a moment and smiled. "Well, I suppose that's one way to attract the ladies – wear a mask over your face," he joked.

"Hey, now!"

Henry laughed. "Well, we've gotta think of something to get you married off. You're not getting any younger."

Grant pursed his lips. "You first! I'll see you tonight."

"You can count on it," Gowen responded.

So, he's single, Jenny thought, as the Constable proceeded across the street, then chastised herself for even considering a thing like romance when the lives of herself and her family were on the line. She needed to get focus. She needed to get to Nathan.

Just then, the flicker of a piece of paper at the end of the next building captured her attention. She wondered what it was. Riding to the area, she dismounted and then tore the paper off the wall.

Masquerade Ball!

All are invited to attend in costume to celebrate the engagement of:

Elizabeth Thornton

and

Lucas Bouchard

Ball to be hosted by Martin and Helen Bouchard.

Friday the 23rd of April, 1920.

Tears filled her eyes as she ran her finger over her brother's name and then her parents. They were all here, in Hope Valley, for her brother's engagement. And the party was tonight.

A thought ran through her head, but she brushed it away. It quickly returned.

Could she? Should she? It is a masquerade ball, after all.

Excitement built as she quickly mounted up, turned around, and kicked her horse into a run back to the cabin. There were lots of clothes in her trunk, and old Solomon had even left behind a thing or two. With what was there, Jenny knew she could come up with something perfect for the party.

Her brother's engagement party. And she wouldn't miss it.

I'll see you soon, Lucas, she thought, wiping the tears from her cheeks as she rode.

Martin Bouchard sat in his bedroom at the Queen of Hearts, staring at a mostly full bottle of whiskey and a photograph of his wife. He wondered how she could do this to him, knowing how he felt. Helen was not a vindictive woman, and she wouldn't deliberately hurt him. So, to see her galivanting around town with Fontaine cut him to the quick.

"Why?" he asked, staring at her photo.

It had to be him. It had to be Fontaine himself. He had confused her, come on to her at a point where she was lonely – made advances with all of the subtlety of the snake he was. Yes. That was it. It had to be. Claude Fontaine was on the verge of getting what he'd wanted for forty years and was doing so by deceiving his Helen. It needed to stop, and Martin Bouchard would stop it tonight.

Around an hour before the party, the Queen of Hearts was busy preparing for its guests to arrive. Gustave had created a huge spread of food in celebration of the engagement and was setting up a display in honor of the bride and groom, and to the side, a band was tuning up their instruments for a night of musical entertainment the likes of which Hope Valley had never seen.

In his room, all Claude Fontaine wanted to do was get ready to go home. But he knew that couldn't happen until he'd found Jenny. Too much was riding on her being captured, so he would simply have to make the best of it and deal with that business as expeditiously and discreetly as possible.

In terms of Helen, he shouldn't have been surprised that she had rejected him. She had always kept him at arm's length. Had she played him for a fool? He sighed. No, she was the fool – to give up the life he could give her in exchange for a loveless marriage? What was she thinking?

He looked at the clock, realizing that it was almost time. But he was in no partying mood. He considered skipping the event altogether, but how would it look if he didn't show? After all, this ball was his suggestion. A smirk crossed his face as he recalled how he took that impudent Martyn's idea and made everyone think he came up with it. One of the advantages of being the boss. At least there was that victory he could look back on.

Looking in the mirror, he straightened his toga, then reached over to pick up the laurel wreath for his head. "You make a pretty good Caesar if I do say so myself," he said as he admired his form. "Of course, I picked better friends than old Julius; may he rest in peace." Reaching for his scabbard, he heard a noise toward his room's entrance and looked over to see a piece of paper lying on the floor. Leaving his reflection, he walked over and retrieved it before turning the knob and peeking out into the hallway. There was no one around, so he closed the door behind him and read what was written.

Meet me at the water tower in 10 minutes.

Come in costume so we won't be recognized.

Helen

Fontaine grinned as he reread the words, then puffed out his chest. "I knew you would come back to me," he said cockily. He returned to his dressing table and donned his scabbard and gladius, a short two-edged sword emperors carried as they went to battle. And then he left his room.

Almost running down the stairs, he was greeted at the bottom by Mike Hickam. "Hail Caesar!" Mike joked, getting a quick laugh from the lawman.

"Pardon me," Fontaine said, hurrying past him. "I need to be somewhere."

"No problem," Hickam replied. "Hey!"

Fontaine turned to Hickam, who pointed at him. "Watch your back!" Mike said.

Claude smiled broadly at the joke. Even the worst of humor couldn't get to him today. He turned back around and rushed out the door.

Standing in front of the mirror, Helen positioned her headband on top of her golden tresses and stepped back to inspect her attire. "Curiouser and curiouser," she said with a curtsy, smiling at herself before leaning in and checking her eyes. "Oh dear, I do wish I'd slept awhile longer."

Smiling at her performance, she checked her blue dress and white apron before picking up her mask and putting it to her face, peering through it before hearing a knock at the door. "I wonder which way I ought to go," she said before shaking her head at her childishness and heading for the door. Upon opening it, she looked down to find a beautiful bouquet of red roses, causing a slight gasp.

Reaching down, she lifted the flowers, smelled their fragrance, and walked back into her room to place them on a table. As she turned the vase, she saw a note attached to one of the stems. Removing it, she opened the folded sheet and read the short message.

Meet me by the library in 15 minutes.

With love,

Martin

The words lifted her spirits, and a bright smile followed. "Well, I've had enough nonsense. I'm going home," she stated in her best Alice voice as she checked the mirror once more.

Lucas exited his vehicle, looking around in self-consciousness over the costume Elizabeth had selected for him to wear. It wasn't that it wasn't thoughtful that she had chosen Robin Hood and Maid Marian for their disguises. It was those tights – bright green ones at that. At least his tunic was long and kept him well covered – or at least well enough, he guessed. If she only knew.

Closing his door, Lucas checked inside his cloak for the pistol he'd stored inside. If Jenny did show up, he wanted to be prepared to protect her in any way necessary.

Walking to Elizabeth's door, he couldn't help but smile at her when he saw her blue eyes shining with pure happiness over their date that evening. She never failed to take his breath away. He offered her his hand as he helped her from the car.

"Thank you, kind sir," she said, batting her eyelashes.

Lucas grinned a dimpled smile, and a feeling of great love swept over him to where he pulled her to him for a kiss. She moaned lightly when their lips touched, and he knew he needed to back away, or he wouldn't be able to, and they wouldn't be joining the party. "Come, m'lady. Let us join the merry lords and ladies inside the tavern."

Elizabeth nodded her head, then grabbed his arm, and he escorted her to the Queen of Hearts.

Entering the building, they were greeted first by the Coulters, who, this time, were dressed as Marie Antoinette and Louis XVI, with Rosemary playing her role, as usual, to the hilt. For instance, she refused to greet them until they both bowed to her and Lee, but then began to giggle about what a fun idea the entire event was.

"A masquerade ball for an engagement party?! What a splendiferous idea!"

"We thought so," Elizabeth said with a smile. "Of course, it's for a greater cause."

"Yes," Lee said, itching his neck around his collar, which was being irritated by lace. "Any sign of her?"

"Not yet," Lucas said.

Just then, Nathan walked up, eating a hors d'oeuvre. "Nice legs," he stated, looking at Lucas's tights before stuffing his mouth with a Canapé.

Lucas closed his eyes in embarrassment. "Only for Elizabeth. Have you heard anything?"

"Nothing yet," Nathan said. "But it's early. I wouldn't expect her for a while."

Jenny hadn't been to a party since she was very young and found herself excited about this one for many reasons. Of course, the main one was that she would be reunited with her family again.

She looked in the mirror and adjusted her too-large shirt once again, slapping a cowboy hat onto her head and neatly tucking her hair inside. At least my boots fit, she thought as she folded her bandana in half and held it up to her face. Nodding her head, she tied it around the bottom half of her face and headed out the door.

Claude arrived at the water tower with no time to spare and was happy to see that Helen was not yet there. This would give him a chance to compose himself after his quickened sprint. At sixty-eight years of age, he had the physique and endurance of one much younger and could outpace nearly anyone on the force. But the emotion of the day and what was about to happen had taken something out of him. He wondered what she would say. Would she apologize for her rude behavior? Would she ask him to run away with her? What on earth could she want?

From close by, he heard a sound, the sound of rustling, and he turned. It was too dark to see what was happening, but it seemed to be coming from behind the gas station just a few paces away.

"Hello?" he asked. "Is somebody there?"

He waited and listened, and then he heard it again. He looked in that direction and saw what appeared to be a shadow. His lady was playing games.

Chuckling, he thought two can play at that game, and so he walked across the grass. In the dark, he could see very little, so he needed to tread carefully lest he fall.

"Is that you, my lovely little swan?"

There was no answer, so he walked further.

Stepping completely behind the station, he realized now how eerie the area was. In fact, if it weren't for the partial moon above, he wouldn't be able to see his own hand in front of his face.

"Helen?" he asked quietly.

Suddenly, he felt himself being grabbed from behind and slammed against the wall. With one arm twisted behind his back, he struggled to break free and fight off his attacker. He thought he was successful when his assailant allowed just enough room for him to take one step back, but then he heard it – the sound of his sword being withdrawn from its sheath. And then he felt it as its cold steel blade plunged into his back.

Claude fell to his knees, already dizzy from the hot, oozing liquid that poured from his wound. His attacker kicked him so that he was lying down completely, and that's when he saw him and his face. Fontaine gasped. "Et tu, friend?" Then, his world went black.

Helen Bouchard checked her reflection in the window of the Hope Valley Library, pinching her cheeks and then looking back toward the saloon to see if her husband was coming. It wasn't like Martin to be late, but just the fact that he had reached out to her had left her with such a feeling of relief that she didn't mind. They needed to talk, to work out the misunderstanding that Martin had over her relationship with Claude. She knew that if they could do just that, things would be mended. She would be better, because she would do better by him and by her family.

In the distance, she heard the sound of a man's heels walking on the wooden walkway. That must be him, she thought. But as the dark figure approached, she recognized that it wasn't her husband, whose form she would know anywhere. It was another man. Suddenly, she got a chill caused not by the cool temperature or the evening breeze but by the thought she was a woman standing by herself in a desolate space where no one could help her if trouble came. She mentally chastised herself; after all, this was Hope Valley, not the darker parts of Montreal or New Orleans. Then, the man drew nearer. Perhaps Martin had sent him.

"Good evening," she said politely as he walked up beside her. "I'm just waiting for my husband."

The hooded figure said nothing in return, only looked toward the saloon and then surveyed the rest of the area.

Helen watched him with apprehension, deciding quickly that she needed to return to the Inn. "I think I'll wait over there." But before she could make it out of the area, she felt a gloved hand over her mouth. She started to scream, but the hard butt of a Colt .45 pressed against her ribcage silenced her before the man took her away.

Lucas stepped away from a conversation with the Yosts to refresh his and Elizabeth's beverages. While Pete filled their order, he looked around the Queen of Hearts for his parents, frowning when he didn't see them.

Nathan looked over and spotted his disturbed friend and decided to join him. "Don't worry, it's still early. She could still show."

Lucas nodded once and continued to look around. "Yes. Say… have you seen my parents recently?"

Nathan scanned the crowd. "Not really. Is something wrong?"

Lucas didn't respond. Instead, he turned to the bartender when he realized Fontaine wasn't around either. "Pete, would you mind taking our drinks over to the table by Elizabeth and tell her I'll be back in a few minutes?"

"Sure, Mr. Bouchard," Pete replied.

Lucas turned toward the stairs, and Nathan grabbed his arm. "What's going on?"

Lucas shook his head. "Something doesn't feel right. My parents are gone, and so is Fontaine. Given the purpose of this soiree, I would expect them to all be here."

Nathan again surveyed the crowd. "I would expect you would be right."

"I'm going to go check their rooms," Bouchard said with Nathan's approval.

"Who are you? What are you going to do with me?" a bound Helen Bouchard asked inside a horse's stall.

"Who I am is immaterial," the masked man said. "It's better for you that you do not know. What's more important is who you are – which is my plan B. You see, if that pretty little daughter of yours doesn't show up for a celebration in honor of her brother's engagement, I believe using you as a hostage will be just the encouragement she needs to reveal herself."

"Please, leave her alone. If it's money you want…."

The man laughed. "I don't need your money. I'm the King of New Orleans, haven't you heard? All I need is for one little lady to be silenced forever."

"One little….? Jenny?!" Helen said in horror.

"Drake should have killed her when I told him to. The stupidity of kidnapping a kid from one of New Orleans's most prestigious families…we would have been caught in less than a week. But then again, Solomon and Hank were never the brightest. Still, I never took them as soft," he said, walking to the corner of the room and retrieving a heavy canvas bag.

Helen watched as he reached into the bag and pulled out three smooth white stones, then bounced them in his hand. "But here we are. I'm always playing cleanup for other people's messes. Story of my life. But never again. In a short while, Solomon Drake's biggest mistake will be rectified, and your Jenny will be no more."

"No!" Helen sobbed. "You can't do this!"

The man walked over to Helen and ripped off the apron from her costume, quickly fashioning it into a gag. "Don't worry, Mademoiselle Bouchard, you'll have a little time to spend with your precious one right before I send the both of you to Hell."

As Helen wept, the man stood and picked up the canvas bag, then began making a trail of white rocks from the stables all the way down Main Street. "Come out wherever you are, Jenny Bouchard and the stones will lead you home."

A speckled mare made its way down Main Street in Hope Valley, the perfect accessory to complete the disguise of her rider. Jenny considered where to tie her in case she needed to run. She opted for the hitching post just across the street from the saloon. Dismounting, she straightened her costume and secured the beast, then reached up to make sure the knot was tight in her bandana. Satisfied that all was in order, she took a deep breath and began walking toward the Queen of Hearts. Her plan was to slip inside and make herself inconspicuous, waiting for the right opportunity to find and talk to Lucas. She'd walked no further than ten paces when a small group of teenagers walked outside into the night.

"Ooh! A cowboy!" one of them said.

"Come on, Sarah!" an older girl replied.

Jenny automatically turned toward her horse, being spooked by the attention. And until the children disappeared, she pretended to be adjusting its saddle. Finally, when they were gone, she looked to her right and then her left to make sure nobody else was coming, and that's when she saw them - sparkling like a hundred diamonds in the moonlight, a trail of white rocks. Hansel and Gretel immediately popped into her mind. "Lucas!" She smiled in wonderment.

Again, checking the environment around her, she quickened the pace as she followed the trail. He must have somehow known she was around. But how? Seeing the stones led to a barn, she quickly crossed the street and went inside. It was somewhat dimly lit, so she tried to walk in the light.

"Lucas?" she asked, seeing nobody there.

She heard a sound coming from the back of the building and bit her lip in anticipation of seeing him again. Quietly, she crept toward the stall where she believed the sound was coming from, careful not to make any noise as she approached it. Finally, she got to the door and reached for its handle. On the count of three, she yanked the door open, fully expecting, for whatever reason, that her brother would be on the other side. Instead, she received the greatest shock of her adult life.

"Mother!" she gasped, rushing toward the bound and gagged Helen Bouchard, who was desperately crying and shaking her head no.

Jenny paid no attention to her cue, instead seeking to remove the gag from her mouth. As she reached for the knot, she heard a sickening sound – a click of a pistol near her ear. She froze.

Raising her hands, her heart sped up as she slowly stood up and turned around. A masked man with a gun ripped the bandana from her face. And although his face was covered, she recognized his cold eyes immediately. Her heart plummeted. Bile rose in her throat as the malevolent force lowered his mask and smirked.

"Jenny Bouchard, we meet again."

Lucas stepped out onto Main Street, looking right and then left in search of his parents, but everything was quiet. Turning right, he began walking toward the library, making sure to look in between buildings along the way. When he reached the dentist's office next door, he suddenly heard footsteps from behind. He turned to see who it was only to find a man in a colorful suit coat with tails and a comically large top hat walking toward him. He sighed with relief.

"Father! Where were you? I've been looking for you."

Martin caught up to him and touched his arm. "No need to worry. I've been out looking for your mother. Have you seen her?"

"No," Lucas said. "And Fontaine is gone too."

"Well, they're not up at the church. I checked there a little earlier. And I checked the café as well."

Lucas frowned. "I was about to check the library."

"Good idea," Martin said. "Perhaps she's simply gone to read a book and is not with Fontaine at all."

While the two men continued their journey, even entering the small building despite the fact that it was dark, another figure came rushing on bicycle to the Queen of Hearts. Letting the bike fall to the ground, Robert Wolfe rushed into the building looking for Nathan.

"Have you seen Constable Grant?" he asked Joseph Canfield. Canfield pointed him toward the stairs.

Robert pushed his way through the crowd and was out of breath when he reached him.

"You've got to come quick! Somebody's been murdered!" the young man said.

"What?!" Grant replied. "Where?"

"By the water tower. It's that guy that came up from New Orleans, the one that's been hanging around here for a few days. I was coming to the party and heard a moaning sound and found him lying in the grass. I thought maybe he was sick or something, but when I leaned over, I found he'd been stabbed. I reached out to help him, and he grabbed my wrist, looked right up at me, and told me to 'find Martin.' Then he just fell back. I….I think he's dead."

"Nothing. She's not at Abigail's. She's not at the church. Where could she be?" Martin Bouchard asked as he and his son exited the side door at the library onto Judicial Street. Just as they did, Lucas spotted the trail of rocks shining in the moonlight.

"Wait a second, Father. What is this?" he asked, bending down to pick up one of the stones. He held it in his hand, and then his eyes followed the path from where they were standing to the stables. An excited smile came upon his face. "Jenny!"

"Jenny?" Martin asked.

Lucas took off, running toward the barn. "She's left us a trail, just like Hansel and Gretel! Come!"

While the two men rushed toward the stables, a group of men, including Nathan, Bill, Mike, Lee, and Joseph, left the Queen of Hearts and headed toward the gas station. Even from afar, Fontaine's body could be seen.

"Oh, my goodness," Mike said. "He said he was going to kill him. Do you think he actually did it?"

Nathan didn't respond but merely surveyed the area to see if the culprit was near.

Stepping through the barn door, Lucas and his father stopped in their places when they saw the place disheveled. There had clearly been a struggle as items were moved from their normal places, and a workbench that the horse's groom used when he was tending the horses was knocked over on its side. The two men looked at one another and proceeded to enter.

"Hello? Is anyone here?" Lucas asked, slowly making his way down the narrow walkway in between the stalls. Other than the sound of the horses winnowing, he was met with silence.

As they reached the end of the stalls, Martin spotted what looked like a blood drop on the floor outside of a stall. Lucas bent down and touched it, noting it was still wet. He looked up toward his father and then stood up, looking into the stall. At first, it appeared there was nothing there, but as he squinted, he saw a small strand of blonde hair plucked from the roots. He held it up for his father to see.

"Dear heaven!" Martin gasped.

Lucas stood from his spot and turned back toward the exit. "We need to get Nathan," he said. He'd not gotten far when his father called out to him.

"Wait a second," he said. "What is this?"

Bending down, the elder Bouchard picked up a golden piece of jewelry – a locket. He opened it, and his lips parted. He then handed it to Lucas. There inside was the same photo of Jenny and her children that he'd found in her book, only in miniature. The two men stood speechless as they considered the import.

"That means Jenny was here – with Mother."

"And Fontaine's got them!" Martin Bouchard said, anger building within.

"No…. not Fontaine," Lucas said. "The rocks. Fontaine didn't know about the rocks. He wasn't there when I told that story."

The elder Bouchard shook his head. "Then who? Thomas Martyn is gone."

"Or is he?" Lucas said. He closed his eyes, and immediately, things began to make sense. "It was his district in which she was taken. He dealt with these kinds of things all the time. Oh, dear heaven!"

Before Martin could respond, Lucas rushed past him and straight to the stall where Elizabeth kept Sergeant. He reached for the horse's saddle, which hung on the wall, and pulled him out of his stall.

"What are you doing?" Martin asked as he watched his son preparing the black horse to ride.

Lucas tightened the strap and then mounted, checking his pistol once he was up there.

"Thomas has kidnapped both Mother and Jenny, and I'm going to go find them. Sergeant is the fastest horse in here. I have an idea where they might be."

"Where?"

"A perfect place where one could go to just disappear. Quickly, get to the saloon and find Nathan. Tell him what happened and that I'm heading to Reid's Lake to rescue them. Tell him to come armed," he said before riding toward the door.

"Lucas!" Martin called out. His son turned around. "Be careful!"

Lucas nodded once, then rode off into the night.

Martin Bouchard rushed out of the stable and ran as fast as he could toward the saloon. He was happy to see the Town's Mountie was already outside. "Constable Grant!" he called out, waving his hand for Nathan to stop.

Grant turned and saw him and stood motionless until Lucas's father caught up.

"Constable Grant, you're just the man I wanted to see," Bouchard said.

Nathan ignored the comment. "Yes, I was looking for you too. I'm afraid you need to come with me," he said, grabbing Martin by the arm and marching him toward the jail.

"But…what? What are you doing? There's something of some urgency I need to tell you. It's about Jenny."

"Yeah, well, tell me in here," Nathan said, pulling Bouchard into the Mountie station and marching him toward a jail cell.

"Are you… Are you arresting me?" he asked, looking confused as Grant pushed him toward the cell and then placed him behind bars.

"I'm holding you."

"On what grounds?"

"On the suspicion of murder in the death of Claude Fontaine."