The Page She Left Behind
Chapter 2: Winds of Change
Author's note: Thank you SO much for all of your support of this new story, for all of your favorites, follows, and reviews! Your support warms my heart and keeps me going in my writing; I can't say it enough. It's the truth! I'm so very happy you are enjoying the story so far!
I'd also like to let you all know that my friend Paths Through Lavender Fields published a gorgeous new Nathan and Elizabeth one-shot called "This Golden Moment" over the weekend on this site. It is absolutely wonderful, and I highly encourage you to go give it a read if you haven't already, and check out her other stories, too. :)
Have a blessed rest of your week!
Before long, Elizabeth had acquired a quart of hearty homestyle chicken noodle soup from the cafe for herself and Jack, along with a rather lengthy French baguette that smelled as if God's cherubim and seraphim themselves had handcrafted its dough. Mission accomplished, she thought to herself as she disembarked from the steps leading up to the restaurant and made it back down to the gravel road of the town. With her right hand, she carried both of her food items in a wicker basket that Bill had loaned her at the cafe, and with her left arm, she lugged her bag of school books—and her journal, which she had stuffed inside. The journal had barely fit, its edges slightly jutting out of the bag.
Elizabeth commended herself on opting for a cozy dinner of soup and bread, as brisk, somewhat feisty evening winds had emerged, stubbornly holding onto winter's leftovers. They blew her already chaotic curls in all sorts of directions—some of which, she figured, would not even be on a compass! They also made her tug her bookbag tighter to her side and prompted her to reinforce her grip on Bill's wicker basket.
Before she traversed up the side road to her rowhouse, she ventured a look back across the street at the Mountie Regional Office, where Nathan carried out his law enforcement duties. The ashen shade of dusk that tiptoed all around her made his currently lamplit office—he must still be working, she noted—look particularly warm, radiant, and welcoming. For a moment, she was rather tempted to go share her soup and baguette with him, but her conscience reminded her she had to feed and tend to her son.
Soon, her eyes fell on the lefthand window of Nathan's office, with its many panes. Two of the panes, she observed, were filled in with a handsome, familiar face whose eyes flicked and glimmered in the twilight like unheard-of blue fireflies and whose head of hair was handsomely topped off by its characteristic tan campaign hat.
Has he just been glancing my way for a second, or for the full 30 seconds since I stepped out of the cafe? I look rather inelegant; the wind is making my curls run amok, yet..he is looking my way all the same.
Her blush from earlier promptly revisited her. So much for exchanging my warm cheeks for hot soup...I get to go home with both!
Nathan gave her an awkward, almost comical wave and quickly vanished from the window, sheepish at having been caught looking her way.
Between my pivotal confession I made about him in my journal today, my conversation with him in town earlier, and his through-the-window peeping this evening—I am going to have to have a girl talk with Rosemary tonight! Elizabeth mused to herself.
A monumental wind suddenly blasted through the town, so powerful it flung Elizabeth backward, making her momentarily hand over both her bookbag and borrowed wicker basket to the gravel road. At least that wind considerably cooled my toasty cheeks, she pondered with an inner chuckle and brisk shake of her head as she swiftly stood back up. She quickly reclaimed her bookbag and reseized the wicker basket, checking carefully to make sure that the baguette was still intact, and the soup's container hadn't fractured. By the grace of God, they had somehow managed to stay within the confines of the basket. And to her relief, all was well with her and Jack's dinner.
Setting out for home once more, she picked up her pace, determined to secure herself from fast-moving, unforgiving winds and from the captivating, watchful eyes of a Mountie whom she very much had feelings for.
She prayed he hadn't seen her clumsily surrender her footing to the wind. Just the thought of him potentially seeing her awkwardly tumble backward was enough to restore the heat in her cheeks. Though, knowing him, if he had, he would have run out of his office to check if she was okay, so she deduced she had been safe from his view at that precise moment.
She made it about fifty more steps before she heard, "Mrs. Thornton! Mrs. Thornton!"
Opal was urgently running toward her, and was that her journal she had in hand?
"I...I think you might have dropped this, Mrs. Thornton. I just finished shopping with my family at the Mercantile, and I noticed this in the street, not far from Abigail's Cafe. Since there aren't a lot of people walking around town right now, and I know you love to write, I figured it could be yours."
"Oh, bless you, sweet, dear girl. It must have fallen out of my bag during the strong wind that assailed me. I would have lost my mind if I had misplaced my journal and left it here in the street, especially with it being so private. Did...did you look inside?"
"Don't worry, Mrs. Thornton. I have a diary of my own, now that I'm 15. I know that they are private. I solemnly pledge that I didn't look inside. I won't 'solemnly swear' because swearing is bad, you know."
"You are a wise, wise girl. Thank you again, Opal, so very much. You stay warm and safe in these unexpected winds, and I'll see you tomorrow morning at school."
"You're very welcome, Mrs. Thornton. Have a good night and get home safely!"
"And then, after our conversation in town today—during which he called my curls the opposite of unbecoming—Nathan was staring at me through the window of his Mountie office when I was coming out of the cafe, right when the wind was wreaking extreme havoc on my hair." Elizabeth was regaling to Rosemary her interactions with Nathan that afternoon, having invited her best friend over to her house after putting Little Jack to bed.
"Forgive me for being forthright, Elizabeth, but how exactly is any of this a problem? You're making your interactions with Nathan sound like one long, complex math problem, when the answers are clear. He loves you. You love him.
"The man can't help but catch glimpses of you because you are the most beautiful woman ever to him. He loves seeing your curls blow wildly in the wind." Rosemary dramatically gesticulated with her arms, giving them each their moment to shine. She rapidly and vigorously floated her right arm up and down and then her left, in an impressive attempt to personify the blustery gales that had touched down on Hope Valley earlier. It was now quiet and still outside, but Rosemary brought enough of her own forceful flair to Elizabeth's living room that it felt like Elizabeth and her curls were still being tossed by the wind.
"You've admitted your love for him in your journal, as you already told me. Tell him how you feel, Elizabeth."
"Why am I so scared to disclose the full extent of my feelings to him, Rosemary?"
"While admitting your feelings about him in your journal made things real, telling him makes them infinitely more real."
"Yes. That's exactly it." Elizabeth gnawed at her lip as merciless anxiety consumed her features.
"The risk of letting yourself love him and be loved by him when tomorrow is not assured scares you, Elizabeth." Rosemary noted, pointedly but gently. "You fear him getting hurt in the line of duty, don't you?"
Elizabeth nodded, distrustful of her voice, of its ability to affirm Rosemary's statement without shattering.
"But Elizabeth...isn't it scarier to think of all you'd miss by not taking the risk of loving him and being loved by him?"
Scores of scenes that she'd miss suddenly came to life in Elizabeth's mind.
Adorable bunny rabbit races between Nathan and Jack. Allie and Jack playing pretend and exploring the outdoors together for hours on end. Allie and Jack continuing to develop their own special ways of communicating.
Guiding Allie in navigating life as a young woman and far beyond. Loving her deeply. Being her mother.
She—Elizabeth—continuing to develop her own secret language with Nathan in turn, via their facial expressions, gestures, and code words that only the other understood. She and Nathan never going too long without making each of their hands snug and secure in the other's. She and Nathan sharing their first kiss, unsurpassable in its sweetness.
Once married, packing lunches for Nathan that included banana bread muffins for dessert, and the ensuing, crumbling grins that surfaced on his face after he peeked inside at them. He tenderly helping her into her coat each chilly day. She affectionately tying his tie for him during holidays and special events. Both of them coming together for meaningful, recurring kisses that spoke of their mutual affection as husband and wife and reciprocally lifted their spirits.
Watching their baby take her first steps together, and Nathan gently scooping their little one up with his strong arms, recentering her and placing her back on her feet after she fell, while providing her with endless soft encouragement...
"Elizabeth...?" Rosemary pressed again, taking notice of her dearest friend's silence and the tears that suddenly teemed in the corners of her eyes.
"Yes, Rosemary. You've sp-spoken many truths over the years, b-but that might be your truest truth yet..." Elizabeth blubbered clumsily, trying to quell her tears.
A satisfied smirk surfaced on Rosemary's face. "I have my moments. And, as your friend, it's my duty to tell you the truth."
"No argument from me there." Elizabeth grinned through her flood of emotions, a tear getting away from her despite her most noble efforts to contain it. She wiped it dry. Breathe, Elizabeth, breathe. Keeping her emotions in check after having a vision of Nathan tending so tenderly to their future baby felt rather formidable.
"Well, Rosemary," she added after a few moments, once she had regained some semblance of emotional stability, "I mustn't keep you too long from Lee and Goldie. Go watch that precious little one of yours slumber, and get some rest of your own." Elizabeth yawned, her own need for sleep making itself known. "Thank you for listening, and for providing me with your continual words of wisdom."
"It's always my pleasure, and it's forever an honor to be your best friend."
"Right back at you, Rosemary Coulter."
"Looking forward to calling you Elizabeth Grant soon," Rosemary only half-teased, eyes scampering.
"Rosemary!" Elizabeth exclaimed, softly shoving her closest friend in apparent opposition, late evening blooms of pink budding on her cheeks. But her heart couldn't deny that it wanted Rosemary's prediction to come true.
"Both you and I know it's coming," was Rosemary's blunt response, her eyebrows two horizontal rockets blasting upward under knowing eyes. You have to love that woman's unflinching audaciousness, Elizabeth mused, nearly giggling to herself.
Yet, instead of giggling, Elizabeth just continued to blush, unable to denounce her best friend's prediction. After all, she did just have a vision of Nathan with a little girl she had had with him...their daughter...
After Rosemary departed for home, family, and her dear bed, Elizabeth was so exhausted from the day's many escapades—and from trying to navigate her feelings for the town's Mountie—that she fell asleep before she even had a chance to write again in her journal that night.
The next morning, Elizabeth awoke a full half-hour earlier than normal. Her thoughts immediately drifted to Nathan Grant; in her mind's eye, she kept seeing the image of his face gazing keenly at her through his office window. Feeling compelled to chronicle yesterday's events with the man, she bounded out of bed and retrieved her journal from her bookbag, which she had set by her desk upon arriving home the previous night. She then opened her journal, with the goal of finding yesterday's entry and starting a new one on the vacant page right next to it.
Instead of locating yesterday's entry fully intact, however, she was met with an alarming discovery. The final page of yesterday's entry—the very last page she had written on—was missing.
The page on which she had clearly admitted her love for Nathan Grant!
It had been torn away from the journal's binding, no doubt by yesterday afternoon's powerful gales. This must have happened when her journal was momentarily displaced from her bookbag, after her fall and before Opal had returned it to her.
As a result of this startling finding, panic immediately and ruthlessly took Elizabeth captive. It sped up her heartbeat and breathing to distressing rates and seized her hands, causing them to quake and quiver.
She had to attempt to locate the missing page of her journal in town before starting her day of teaching at the schoolhouse. Once Laura arrived that morning, Elizabeth pledged to power walk to town as fast as her legs could possibly take her. After all, Nathan could come across the page, and its accompanying confession, at any time today or during another day to come! She desperately needed to find the page she left behind before he did. Please, God, let my eyes come across it before his beautiful eyes do, she entreated with every fiber of her being.