A/N: I'm very surprised and thankful for all the great reviews the first chapter received! (I was really worried the Nathan fans would throw tomatoes at me, lol.) Your reviews have motivated me to quickly write this chapter. No guarantees that they'll all come out this fast, but I'll do what I can.

Chapter 2

It had been so long since Lucas had felt a warm embrace, that he found himself reveling in Rosemary's hug despite himself. He hadn't realized how much he'd missed human contact. As governor, everyone kept a respectful distance, which had made him feel isolated and alone.

Besides, he'd always had a soft spot for Rosemary, had admired her headstrong zest for life, and he still felt appalled with himself for raising his voice to her a few months before. He hoped he was somehow conveying his remorse as he returned her embrace.

All too soon, she broke away and looked up at him, her blue eyes filled now with tears.

"How is she?" he asked lamely. He reached into his inside coat pocket and offered his handkerchief. She blotted her eyes with one hand and shut the door with the other, stepping out onto the porch with him. She obviously didn't want the risk of Elizabeth hearing her, and Lucas's concern doubled.

"I'm so worried about her," she told him. "She won't speak to anyone, won't eat. Faith came by this morning and strongarmed her into sipping some water, but that's all we could get her to do. Faith gave her something to help her sleep then promised to come back tomorrow. When Allie cried herself to sleep next to her, all Elizabeth seemed to manage was to absently caress her back. Seeing her like this upset little Jack so much, we whisked him next door to play with Goldie and Lee. Poor little boy; he doesn't understand why his mommy won't answer him."

Rosemary shook her head mournfully, sniffed some more and wiped her nose.

"Have you tried having Joseph talk to her?" he asked. He knew how much church meant to her, how she'd always been able to find comfort there. Her influence had helped him to discover his own faith—yet another positive change she'd had on his life.

"Yes," Rosemary was saying, "he prayed there beside her, but I couldn't tell if she was even listening. Today, I've sat and talked to her, prattling on about the fall weather and fashion and town gossip. I don't think I did any good at all. Lucas, you weren't here when she lost her husband a few years ago. She cried for days then, couldn't bear to be here amidst all the memories, so she went back to Hamilton to stay with her parents a few weeks. She came back and was ready to start living again. But this…this is totally different. I read a novel once, set in Haiti, where these people would be both living and dead. Zombies—that's what they were called. Elizabeth reminds me of one of them. It's truly terrifying. I'm afraid she'd going to completely disappear inside herself…"

He'd missed Rosemary's overly dramatic characterizations, her dizzying stream of consciousness, but nonetheless, what she was describing was extremely alarming. For while she often exaggerated, there was always a kernel of truth in what she said.

"I've had to turn everyone away—she's just not up to seeing anyone. If you're hungry, Lee is overwhelmed with casseroles next door. I don't know if we should wait for the funeral—but I suppose it's up to Nathan's parents." She sighed heavily, and Lucas saw that this good woman was carrying the weight of the world on her shoulders for her friend. He wished he could think of some way to ease her burden.

"Perhaps her parents might come for a visit…" he suggested.

"I tried to call them, but their housekeeper told me the family was on an ocean liner bound for England to visit Elizabeth's sister. When Lee mentioned you were coming, I was so relieved. I fear you're her last hope, Lucas."

She looked up at his imposing height in solemn admiration. "You always seem to come to everyone's rescue, don't you? If I squint, I bet I could see the setting sun glinting off your shining armor." She gestured grandly, and a hint of her old mischievous smile danced about her lips, briefly brightening her eyes.

Ordinarily, Lucas would have grinned back at her, but he'd found in recent months that being a hero had been more of a curse than a blessing. He was glad he could save Hope Valley, could accomplish a few things in the past year as governor that would help the country. But although he felt good about those accomplishments, the drive to be helpful had cost him everything he'd loved. He'd wanted to be useful, but not a martyr.

"You flatter me, Rosemary. You know I would do anything to help Elizabeth, but it sounds like greater people than I have tried and failed."

All traces of humor left her eyes, and her expression became very grave. "You have to try though. For our Elizabeth."

He nodded. "I'll do my best."

Rosemary went back inside the house, leaving the door open for him. Lucas closed his eyes a moment, praying silently for strength. He didn't know if he could handle seeing her in such a state, and it frightened him. He opened his eyes and followed Elizabeth's friend inside.

Memories of being in the little house inundated his senses—the lingering smell of achingly familiar perfume, a boy's toys on the floor, a familiar white coat on the coatrack, the sweet taste of smiling lips when he was lovingly greeted at the door…

But he resolutely pushed those images aside and climbed the stairs to the second floor. He'd been up there a few times, mainly when he'd taken Jack to his room. As for Elizabeth's bedroom, he'd only caught glimpses of a neatly made bed and a quilt with big red hearts, white lace curtains in the window, a whiff of talcum powder and lilacs. As a gentleman, it would have been unseemly to enter her bedroom, as much as he might have wanted to.

There had been a few weak moments after they were engaged, when, carried away by passion, she'd whispered an invitation. He almost laughed when he remembered how he'd been the one to slow things down, honoring their decision to wait for marriage, worried that she would regret her impulsivity later.

Had he only known how things would end, he would have taken her up on her offer. He could have lived off those memories for the rest of his life.

And so it was that Lucas entered the sanctity of Elizabeth's room at last, under much different circumstances than he'd often imagined. In the dimness, he could just make out her slim form beneath that quilt of hearts, the back of her bobbed hair (he would never get used to that) resting on a flowered pillowcase, and his heart skipped a beat. She lay facing the wall and the single window, the barest hint of light seeping in around the edges of the drawn shade. Lucas felt as if he'd entered a sick room, or a wake, and the macabre thought made him shiver in dread.

Rosemary was rushing around the room, turning on the bedside lamp, adjusting the quilt around Elizabeth, talking to her as if she expected the woman to reply normally. But this was not normal.

This was not his Elizabeth.

Rosemary gently touched her arm. "You have a visitor, Elizabeth. He travelled a long way to see you. Won't you wake up and say hello?"

When Elizabeth did not move or respond, Rosemary gave Lucas a mournful look, and she quickly employed his handkerchief again.

"I'll leave you two to talk," she said hopefully, and, walking past Lucas, squeezed his arm in a mixture of sympathy and encouragement.

He stood frozen just a few steps inside the room, at a complete loss as to how to proceed. He couldn't see her face, and he was both afraid and eager to look upon it again. His hands formed fists as he felt a sudden burst of anger at what she had been reduced to. It took everything in him not to march to her bed and shake her back into the world, make her acknowledge his existence, implore her to face the situation with the strength he had witnessed in her so many times before.

But he resisted the urge, and, relaxing his hands, walked around the bed so he could look upon her at last. He was not expecting to see that her blue eyes were wide open, though dull and seemingly sightless, unflinching even as he moved to block her view of the wall. He removed the embroidery hoop Rosemary had left in the chair beside the bed and lowered himself gingerly upon the cushioned seat.

"Elizabeth," he said, his voice strained and unrecognizable to his own ears. He cleared his throat and reached out a tentative hand to her shoulder, the sprigged muslin nightgown soft and well-worn beneath his fingers. "Elizabeth, it's Lucas. I—I wanted to see that you were all right, to convey my condolences…"

His voice trailed off when he realized how much he hated his distant, impersonal tone. They knew each other better than that, had loved each other, had made plans, had made commitments. He might have missed a few clues toward the end of their relationship, but he thought he understood her better than anyone. He relaxed against the back of the chair, forced his tense, tight expression to ease as he studied her familiar face, still heartbreakingly beautiful even in unfathomable sorrow.

"I'm glad to see you, as I always am," he said, hoping he conveyed all the warmth and love he was feeling. "I came as soon as I could. No matter our history, we're friends, you and I, and I'm here because I care about you."

He waited to see if his small speech might elicit any reaction, but he was sadly disappointed. But Lucas wasn't giving up. He reached for her hand and held it, cool and lifeless, between his own.

"I can't imagine what you must be going through, but I'm here if you want to talk…and even if you don't. I stopped at the stables and visited Seargent, and Ishmael, and Newton. I'll take them out riding tomorrow to give them some exercise. The weather seems to be nice for it."

He shook his head at himself. "Listen to me, talking about the weather. Perhaps you'll be more interested in the status of the National Park…"

And so he spoke to her in normal tones, just as he once would have when discussing their day over dinner at the saloon, or during a picnic lunch by the pond. He didn't demand that she get out of bed, that she snap out of her malaise because she had a son who needed her, students who missed her, a young girl who just lost her father. He supposed she knew all that but was so immersed in shock and grief that she wasn't ready to face it.

Before long, he noticed that her breathing had become deeper, and she had closed her eyes. He waited a few minutes, still chatting as if catching up with an old friend, before he slowly released her hand and lay it on the bed beside her cheek.

He rose as quietly as he could, tiptoeing downstairs he knew from experience tended to creak. Rosemary had made tea and looked on the verge of falling asleep over her cup at the kitchen table. She heard Lucas and her eyes flew to the stairs.

"She's sleeping," he said softly. "Rosemary, why don't you go home and get some rest. I'll stay here with her tonight, sleep on the couch." It wouldn't be the first time, he thought, but didn't mention that to Rosemary.

She looked gratefully at him, her eyes filling with tears again. "You wouldn't mind? I know Lee must be going crazy next door with two children." She got up and took her cup to the sink. "There's a casserole in the icebox, and an apple pie that Minnie brought, and I just made tea…"

"I'll be fine. Go. I'll call you if I need you, or if there's any change."

To his surprise, Rosemary embraced him again before she left. "We all love our Elizabeth," she whispered, and he knew she was including him.

When she was gone, Lucas went to the phone. "Florence, this is Lucas. Could you please connect me to The Queen of Hearts?"

Given the efficiency of the local rumor mill, she didn't sound surprised to hear that he was in Hope Valley. "Of course. How is Elizabeth?"

"Resting," he said.

"We're all happy you're here," said Florence. "And glad you haven't forgotten us all the way there in Capital City."

"Never," said Lucas with feeling.

"I'll connect you now."

"Mike," said Lucas, when Florence had made the connection. "Please tell Henry I'm needed here at Elizabeth's."

"Sure thing, Governor. How are things there?"
"Not great," he said honestly. "But I'm seeing if I can offer some moral support."

"It's such a sad situation. Please tell everyone there I'm thinking of them."

"I will. Thank you, Mike."

Lucas poured himself a cup of tea and went to look out the window. He'd always loved the view of the meadow across from Elizabeth's house, and the sun had begun to sink below the horizon, turning the sky into fall colors of orange and red and yellow. But everything now had a tinge of melancholy, even the sunset. He sighed and sat down at the table Rosemary had vacated, and glanced up at the stairs, immersed in his own sadness and longing. Frowning, he made himself look away.

His eyes were drawn to a small stack of books on the table, and he recognized the titles from the new box of books he still sent every few months to the Hope Valley Public Library. Elizabeth must have brought some home for review, and the thought made him smile. They might no longer share anything more than friendship, but they still shared a love of books.

He'd nearly finished his tea when he heard the unmistakable sound of footsteps above him, leading from the corner where Elizabeth's bedroom was to the bathroom, then the click of a door closing. A few minutes later, the steps repeated the return trek.

She got up, he thought happily. He gave her time to settle back in bed, then picked up the copy of The Age of Innocence, weighing it thoughtfully in his hand. His mind made up, he quickly prepared a tray with a glass of water, a large piece of pie, and two forks, and carried all up the stairs, his hopes high.

He found her in bed again, staring at the same wall. She still didn't speak at his greeting, but her eyes focused on him briefly before closing with renewed despair. He set down the tray on her bureau and brought the book and the slice of pie to his chair. He took a big bite, made a soft hum of appreciation.

"I've surely missed Minnie's apple pie," he said. "Don't tell Gustave, but Minnie beats him hands down where cakes and pastries are concerned. Just the right amount of cinnamon. But I guess my eyes were bigger than my stomach, and I cut too big of a slice. Would you like to share it with me?"

She didn't answer, but, unlike before, he had the keen sense that she was actually listening to him now. "Well, you're missing out. I'll save it for you for later." He watched her closely then, but she'd settled back into her grief. Undaunted, Lucas placed the pie on the bedside table (still within smelling distance), cleared his throat, and played his ace in the hole.

"You don't mind if I read, do you? I was glad to see you brought some library books home to read from my last shipment. The Age of Innocence—the title is supposedly meant to be ironic. I read a review in the newspaper that said it was really good—Edith Wharton's best so far."

He opened the book and flipped past the title page to the first chapter, and began to read, his deep, clear voice suitable to reading a novel aloud in much the same way that he was good at giving speeches. As he described Newland Archer's trip to the opera and his fascination with his fiancé, the young, white-clad May Welland, he quickly became absorbed in the story. But then the infamous Countess Olenska was introduced, and Lucas couldn't hide the smirk in his voice as he read:

"…she sat gracefully in her corner of the box, her eyes fixed on the stage, and revealing, as she leaned forward, a little more shoulder and bosom than New York was accustomed to seeing, at least in ladies who had reasons for wishing to pass unnoticed."*

He looked up from the book, hoping to see signs that Elizabeth was as engaged in the story as he was. "How scandalous," he remarked dryly. Was it his imagination, or did Elizabeth's lips quirk a little in amusement? Encouraged, he read on, Edith Wharton's cynical characterization of New York society ringing quite true, in Lucas's estimation, especially given his recent association with high society in Capital City.

As he continued to read, Lucas decided to perform an experiment, and he began purposely mispronouncing words here and there, hoping the teacher in her would not be denied.

She did not disappoint him, for, after his outrageously mangled pronunciation of domesticity, she whispered the word correctly.

His heart pounding, he paused in his reading. "What did you say?" he asked her, then held his breath.

"Domesticity," she repeated more strongly. Then, she opened her eyes and looked right into his. For Lucas, it was as if the sun had come back up, and he felt his eyes welling with emotion. He swallowed over the lump in his throat.

"Well, hello there, Mrs. Thornton," he said hoarsely. And he could no more help himself from grasping her hand than she could prevent herself from being a good teacher.

She held his gaze for a minute. "I can't believe you came."

"There wasn't a question," he said.

"Oh God," she said, reality dawning. Her face suddenly contorting with what could have passed for physical pain, she drew up her knees beneath the covers, doubling over with the agony of her grief. "Nathan…"

He squeezed her hand. "I'm so sorry, Elizabeth."

And then he watched helplessly as she began to cry, great wracking sobs that shook her entire body. She held his hand, gripping it hard, and he let her hold on to him as her world collapsed anew.

Let it all out, my love, he thought, I won't let go.

His own tears fell unchecked now; seeing her like this was his personal version of hell. He wanted nothing more than to gather her into his arms and hold her, but he sensed that this might be perceived as crossing a line that she'd drawn that night at the train station, and he didn't want her ever to think he'd come here to take advantage of the situation. Instead, he muttered soothing words that he hoped didn't come off as meaningless platitudes, for he meant them with his whole heart. In truth, he would say anything if only he could take her pain away, if only he could be that white knight and rescue her from this.

After what seemed like an eternity, she quieted, her weeping reduced to an occasional sniff and a small hitch in her throat. He patted his pocket in search of his handkerchief, but remembered he'd given it to Rosemary. He felt Elizabeth's red rimmed eyes upon him, her face blotchy and puffy in places.

"There are handkerchiefs in my top drawer," she managed, her voice soft and weak.

Reluctantly, she let loose of his hand, and he moved to the bureau, opening the drawer to find a stack of neatly pressed and prettily embroidered squares, the scent of lilacs even stronger from the sachet she'd tucked among them. He avoided looking closely at lacy feminine underthings he'd caught a tantalizing glimpse of, and took out a handkerchief for each of them. He also brought the glass of water from the tray.

After they both wiped their faces and she blew her nose unselfconsciously, he helped her arrange her pillow against the headboard. She took the glass of water, and he was relieved to see her take a good long drink.

They didn't speak for a while, until finally she asked, "Where's Jack?"

"I haven't seen him yet, but he's next door with Rosemary and Lee. I sent her home to get some rest."

"He must be so confused and frightened at the way I've been since…I—I've just felt so numb, Lucas. It's like I crawled inside myself to hide from reality."

"It's understandable, after all you've been through."

"And then there's Allie." A few errant tears rolled down her cheeks at the thought of Nathan's daughter, her student, for whom he knew she had a special love, even before she was with Nathan.
"Rosemary said her grandparents arrived this morning," Lucas told her.
"She's with them now. And if her grandmother is anything like mine, she's being spoiled and loved within an inch of her life."

Lucas was rewarded with her small, fleeting smile. "I had a grandmother like that too." But then she reached up and wiped at a new spate of tears. "I felt Allie in bed with me last night, so heartbroken, seeking comfort from me that I didn't have in me to give…And my students. They must be so worried about me, and sad. They loved Nathan as much as…" But she caught herself from finishing that thought, and Lucas kicked himself for being unable to hide the brief flash of pain that must have shown in his eyes.

"Elizabeth, you can say anything to me. I think it's important that you express all the feelings you must be having right now. Remember, I'm your friend, above all things." He placed his hand atop hers. "I'm sure someone is seeing to your class. Try not to worry about anyone else but yourself right now. You've had a shock; give yourself a little time to recover from that."

She nodded, but he suspected it was more from mental exhaustion than agreement that it was okay for her to be selfish for awhile. There was a companionable silence between them, each lost in thought, the quiet of the evening settling around them. Lucas had missed this so much, had grown to hate the loud city sounds that once used to excite him before he'd known the true peace of mountain life.

Before he'd known Elizabeth.

He followed her gaze as it rested on the pie on the nightstand. The warm scent of cinnamon even overwhelmed the lilacs.

"That pie sure smells good," she said, and his heart lifted that perhaps her appetite might be returning.

"Trust me, it's even better than it smells."

"I remember." She eyed the pie a moment longer, and Lucas picked up the plate, placing the extra fork upon it.

Her stomach growled, and she blushed. He tried to hide his grin but didn't quite succeed.

"May I?" she asked tentatively.

He handed her the plate and she cut off a small bit with the side of her fork. He watched, breath held, as she brought the first bite to her mouth and chewed. She closed her eyes as the burst of tart and sweet fruit and buttery crust melted together on her tongue.

He sat back in his chair, gratitude filling him up. He'd forgotten the happiness that came with small victories. She took another bite.

That's my girl, he thought, and for a moment, he allowed himself to forget that it was no longer true.

A/N: Thanks for reading! More soon. Also, if you're new to my writing and like my style, I've written other LucaBeth and Jack and Elizabeth stories, along with stories from many other fandoms, including Signed, Sealed, Delivered; The Mentalist; Miss Scarlet and the Duke; Moonlight; Daredevil; Buffy; The Office; Star Wars; Sleepy Hollow…Just click on my name and take your pick.

*from Chapter 2 of The Age of Innocence, by Edith Wharton, 1920