This story is a round robin challenge for the Sunday Night Serge Nathan Grant Fanfiction group. Each chapter will be written by a different author, but all posted from this account, so no worries about keeping track of who, when, and where things go. As the title implies, none of us have any idea where this is going to take us, but surely lots of fun is about to commence. Enjoy! :-) -Katie

Elizabeth Thornton stared out the open door of the schoolhouse, lost in her thoughts. The sounds of the children's laughter in the yard, leaves rustling on the trees just beyond it, and the rumbling of a single car's engine passing by reminded her that things were turning around, and that she was really and truly home. Finally.

While she found it hard to admit aloud, the last few years had really taken their toll. First, she'd struggled to adapt to life in a western frontier town when all she'd ever known was high society back east. Then, just as she was settling in and feeling as though she'd found her way and fallen in love, she had been summoned home when her mother took ill. That trip had led to a number of troubles, straining relationships both old and new. Fortunately, once she'd put those behind her, she and Jack had finally started to move forward together.

Jack Thornton. Her first love. She refused to consider her childhood crush on Charles Kensington or teenage infatuation with Edward Montclair to be "real" love, but instead lessons of what she wanted in the man she planned to spend the rest of her life with. Not that Jack was exactly the man she'd always imagined, but she found she could look past his flaws and the shortcomings her parents found in him and see him for who he really was. His devotion to his family was clear in how he rushed to help his younger brother and tolerated his mother's well-intended interference in his life. His dedication to the town he had been assigned to serve and protect deepened as he grew to truly care for the people of Hope Valley, despite his initial misgivings and anger at the assignment. His love for her was expressed by passing up a promising assignment in Cape Fullerton in favor of the life they were starting together in Hope Valley, building her a schoolhouse, and culminating in a beautiful wedding in the spring of 1915. The most obvious was his sense of honor and duty—joining the Royal Northwest Mounted Police like his father, answering the call to serve in the Northern Territories even knowing its dangers, and agreeing to help with a training assignment at Fort Clay.

Elizabeth's heart gave a familiar tug at the last thought. She had been angry for a long time over that assignment. At the Mounties for offering him the position when they had just gotten married and he had so recently finished serving months in the Northern Territories. At Jack, because he had accepted the offer despite those same reasons and without consulting her. At God, for taking her husband away from her during what everyone had assured her was a "safe" assignment. At her family, for thinking she would simply come back to Hamilton and move on as though her entire world hadn't been torn apart. She'd even been furious with herself, for allowing her heart to lead her to a man whose very uniform put him in danger every day.

Shaking her head to clear those thoughts, Elizabeth glanced down at the photograph on her desk, a soft smile coming to her face. Jack Jr. Her son. The reason she had pieced herself back together and started trying to live again. A part of her husband she could hold on to, the best of both of them.

In hindsight, she now realized that she had used her pregnancy and son's birth as an excuse not to deal with her grief over his father's death. She had been content with her life as a mother and teacher and had friends to laugh with and lean on. But she had locked away her heart, damming it up rather than acknowledging the cracks, pain, and empty spaces. Over time, those fissures grew, leading to a disastrous explosion last year. Forced to face the onslaught of old fears, troubles, and tears, she had nearly ruined everything- her career, friendships, and even her connection to her son. Then, just as she was getting back on track, her world was sent spinning once again.

"Elizabeth?"

"Julie? What's the matter?" Used to her sense of dramatics, Elizabeth waited. It was obvious that her sister was sobbing on the other end of the line. "Is it Mother? Her heart?"

Julie sniffed several times before managing to answer. "No, it's Father."

A chill running down her spine, Elizabeth took a moment, gripping the telephone receiver tightly and meeting her friend's worried gaze as Rosemary sank onto the settee beside her. Taking a deep breath, she forced herself to ask, "What happened?"

William Thatcher, business scion and owner of the largest shipping organization in the country, had collapsed in the middle of a meeting. While their mother rushed to his side, Julie had called Elizabeth, urging her to come home in case the unthinkable happened. Upon reaching the hospital, Grace Thatcher had demanded doctors perform every test imaginable, no matter the cost, and by the time their middle daughter and grandson had made the frantic and worry-filled trip across the country, William had been diagnosed with exhaustion. Too many meetings and too little rest as he'd worked to seize a competitor's business had taken their toll. Under strict orders from his physician—who was likely heavily influenced by Grace—William had been ordered to remain on bedrest for two weeks, followed by "home" rest for another month or two. He had also been advised to either work shorter hours and take more time for vacations and family to alleviate some of his stress, or to retire.

The coincidental arrival of the eldest Thatcher daughter and her family had only added to everyone's tension. Viola had, of course, been worried about her father's health, but also saw his long recovery as an opportunity for her husband, Lionel, to assume a role at Hamilton Shipping. Unfortunately, Lord Babbington had spent his entire life simply relying on his family's name and generational wealth rather than working, thus leaving him unprepared for the intense meetings and quick decision-making needed to keep a large company afloat. After only one day of seeing the effort involved, Lionel had announced he would leave the work to those already on the job, and that he preferred to spend his days 'at the club' or shopping for a new yacht.

Fortunately, William had a loyal team at Hamilton Shipping to keep the business running smoothly while he was away. The accountants had sent weekly financial reports—not that Grace allowed him to read them. Charles Kensington, William's second in command at the company, had conveyed regular updates on investors, shipping routes, competitors, and everything else. With Elizabeth's assistance, he finally managed to charm Grace into allowing him to deliver the reports in person, though the Thatcher matriarch had insisted the men meet in the library rather than her husband's study so she could sit in and observe, sending the younger man away the instant William tried to suppress a yawn or showed the slightest inkling of fatigue.

While her father's health had obviously come first, once William had proven to be on the mend, Elizabeth had taken the opportunity to show her son around Hamilton. The little boy had been fascinated with the enormous library and enthralled by the animals at the zoo, eager to tell everyone back home about the 'wooms and wooms' of books and the various furred and feathered creatures he had befriended. He had been far less certain about his cousin, Lady Margaret Victoria Alberta Georgiana Babbington. The only child of Elizabeth's older sister and her husband, the girl was the very definition of prim and proper. Fancy dresses, lacy socks with shoes that looked like they pinched, perfectly styled hair, and no chance of escaping her nanny to get down on the floor with Jack's trains or to play tag in the garden.

"Really, Elizabeth," Viola huffed. "You can't seriously expect Margaret to play with young Jack. It just isn't done."

Elizabeth rolled her eyes before turning to face her sister. "And why is the idea of children playing together so horrible?" she queried. "She's three, barely a year older than him. Surely you allow her to play. All children do. We certainly did when we were their age."

Viola narrowed her eyes. "I seem to recall that it was usually you and Julie paired up with your dolls or playing games, leaving me on the outside. Who's to say your son won't be just as cruel to my child? And besides, he's so…messy." Grasping her daughter's hand a little tighter, she prepared to pull her out of the playroom. "Of course, my daughter plays, with toys and activities proper for a young girl. I won't have her crawling around in the dirt like a…"

"Like a what?" Elizabeth asked coolly, waiting for her sister to continue. "There's not a speck of dust in this house, but if there were, so what? That's what children do. They crawl into tiny spaces and under furniture to play Hide and Seek. They run and laugh and try to catch each other at Tag. They 'make believe', pretending to be princesses and Mounties. And yes, sometimes they get dirty. There's no harm in a little dust. It washes off." Her eyes narrowed even further. "Are you implying that my child is inferior to yours because I treat him like a little boy instead of a fragile doll?"

"You live in the wilderness! Of course, you don't remember what's fitting and proper anymore!"

"Girls!"

Grace Thatcher was framed in the doorway, glaring at her daughters. "Your father is resting. Keep your voices down." She paused, holding her hands out towards her grandchildren. "Come along, dears. Let's go see what Cook has made for lunch." Glancing back at her daughters, she added, "You two may join us when you've remembered your manners."

Viola had stormed off to her room, waiting until supper that night to reappear. Elizabeth had cleaned up her son's toys in the playroom and then spent a few minutes in her own room writing in her journal. By the time she'd gone downstairs, Grace had directed one of the maids to take the children to eat in the kitchen, so Elizabeth had joined them there. Watching her son offer his last bite of cookie to his cousin after Margaret dropped hers, Elizabeth had known that despite the dirt he somehow always managed to find and his perpetually messy hair, her little boy was a on his way to becoming quite the gentleman. Just like his father.

The remainder of their time in Hamilton had been tense. Viola had found fault with just about everything Elizabeth said or did and tried her best to keep her daughter from interacting with young Jack. Lionel, on the other hand, had pushed the children together at every opportunity, commenting repeatedly about how nice it would be to have a son of his own. It had been a relief when the Babbingtons booked their tickets to return to Lionel's family estate in England. Grace, once assured that her husband was going to make a full recovery, had turned her attention to trying to rekindle a romantic relationship between her middle daughter and her best friend's son, despite protests from both Elizabeth and Charles. And Julie had good intentions, but her repeated suggestions that her sister go shopping for "real" dresses while she had the chance had grown quite tiresome. All of Elizabeth's reminders that the finer fabrics and high fashion styles would be out of place in Hope Valley had fallen on deaf ears.

It had been William who encouraged Elizabeth to take Jack and return to their life back in Hope Valley. Over the course of his recovery, he had stealthily gotten his daughter to open up about her triumphs and troubles since her last visit. It was obvious she had not only started facing her grief, but also opened herself to the possibility of falling in love again. Beneath the stories about the town's growth, her students, the new Mountie, and her friends, he had also seen that there were things she still needed to fix and finish in order to truly begin to live again, and she couldn't do them from Hamilton.

"Your sister tells me you got a letter from your young man."

Elizabeth's eyes widened and she stared back at him in shock, causing William to chuckle.

"How did you know…?"

William settled back in his chair, beaming proudly. "Well, I wasn't certain, but judging by your reaction, my intuition was correct."

Elizabeth's cheeks flushed. William leaned forward, placing a hand over her trembling fingers on her lap. "I'm proud of you," he assured her. "As long as you promise me that he treats you and young Jack well and that you're happy, then I am happy for you." He paused, looking thoughtful. "Perhaps it's time your mother and I make a trip to Hope Valley so we can meet the gentleman for ourselves."

"You and Mother? You'd really both come to Hope Valley?" Elizabeth asked in disbelief.

"Of course!" William replied quickly. "I managed it for a couple of days for your wedding, didn't I? I'm sure your mother will fuss about the accommodations, but I'll handle it. And perhaps if she sees you and your young man together, she'll stop all this nonsense with you and Charles."

Elizabeth smiled, grateful to have at least one of her parents' support.

"Now run along," William urged. "While I hate to see you and that precious little boy leave, it's time for the two of you to go home."

Her father's insistence that she and Jack leave as soon as possible had meant that Elizabeth was back in Hope Valley in time for the last two weeks of school. She organized the end of the year tests, prepared for the oldest students' graduation, and even managed to sneak in lunch at the saloon and supper at the café with—

A light burst of wind ruffling the papers on her desk brought Elizabeth back to the present just in time to hear footsteps racing up the stairs.

"Mrs. Thornton, isn't it time for recess to be over?"

Elizabeth glanced down at her watch before getting to her feet. "Yes, Opal, it is time for everyone to come back inside. We still have a few more things to go over before I let you all go to start your summer break."

The young girl looked hopefully at the cowbell sitting on the edge of the desk. At her teacher's nod, she picked it up, hurrying down the aisle to stand at the top of the steps and shaking the bell with exuberance. Behind her, Mrs. Thornton couldn't help but smile.

1918 had gotten off to a rocky start, but Elizabeth was hoping to put her troubles behind her. She had a comfortable home that was just right for her and her son. She had a job that she loved, helping shape the minds and futures of Hope Valley's children. Her parents and sisters were all alive and well. And she was loved and in love with a wonderful man. Her life was as close to perfect as possible. But there was still something…

Despite the joy-filled sounds of the children gathering outside and the cloudless blue sky over their heads, she couldn't ignore the feeling that there was a storm coming.

A/N I don't have "television magic" to realign time for me, but I've tried to make it work. I did not watch S9 or S10 (and never will), so my Hope Valley world stops three years after Jack's death.