He was home again. Safe. Content. Happy. He felt her warm body snuggle next to his and drew her closer. Feeling the soft touch of the skin of her arm under his finger, he leaned over and kissed her forehead.
"Tilly," he smiled, eyes still closed as the outside warmth spread throughout his body. At that moment, he felt true joy. All was right again. But all came to a screeching halt when a voice he did not recognize broke through his half-dream state and asked a one-word question - "Who?"
Opening his eyes, Bouchard nearly catapulted himself off the cot in the small canvas tent in which he lay when he saw not Tilly but a beautiful young Indian maiden lying beside him with her head on his shoulder, staring into his face.
"Who…who…who are you?" he stuttered, tugging a blanket up over his chest.
Before she could answer, another voice answered his question. "Suki? Suki! What are you doing?!"
The young maiden jumped out of the bed and straightened her gown. "I…I…I nothing, Theo!"
"It does not look like nothing!"
"I promise! He looked like he was waking up and…"
"Out!"
"But, Theo!"
"I said, out!"
The young woman scampered out of the tent without so much as looking back at Lucas, who righted himself on the cot as he watched an exasperated man in his mid-twenties swipe a hand over his face. Shaking his head, the stranger turned to Bouchard and sighed.
"I apologize for my sister, Mr. Bouchard."
"Have we…met?" Lucas asked.
"No, sir. Your identification was in your coat pocket when they brought you in here."
"Brought me? How long have I been here?" He looked under the cover and saw that he was still wearing his union suit but that the rest of his clothing had been removed.
Theo poured Lucas a cup of some sort of herbal tea and handed it to him before taking a seat. "Two and a half days. My niece and nephew discovered your automobile in a creek by the side of Union City-Jameson Road after the snowstorm. You were on the ground in front of the car, unconscious.
Remembrance of the circumstances of losing control of the vehicle on an icy patch of road in a snowstorm returned to Lucas's mind, and he nodded. "I slid off the road."
The Indian shook his head. "If they had not found you, you likely would have died. My grandmother, Chenoa, she is the medicine woman for our tribe. She has been taking care of you since you came to camp, she and Suki."
"I…I see," Lucas replied, looking toward the tent flap warily.
"Do not worry too much about her. She is harmless. I have told her multiple times to stick to her job – she is grandmother's assistant," the Indian smiled as Lucas nodded. "I guess you cannot help that she thinks you are handsome. She told my wife that she wants you for a husband."
Lucas choked, and the Indian laughed. "We don't even know one another."
"That does not matter to Suki. She is nineteen years old and afraid she is going to be an old maid. You are the answer to her many prayers. But do not worry. I will handle her. That is the second time she has climbed under the covers with you – the last time because you looked 'cold.' I will talk to her again. She knows better. Meanwhile, we saw from your identification that your name is Lucas Bouchard, and you are from New York City?"
Bouchard shook his head. "Was. I guess right now I don't have a place that I can really call home, but that's where I got my driver's license."
The Indian nodded. "Well, you can stay with us then. I'm Theo. Theo Chowan."
"Pleased to meet you," Lucas said, extending his hand, which he noticed for the first time was wrapped in a cloth bandage. Judging from the discoloration in his fingers, he immediately surmised that he had a touch of frostbite that was healing well, no doubt due to Theo's grandmother. "Are we in an Indian Encampment?"
Theo nodded. "Yes. We are Woodland Cree. We have lived on this land for many years. What brings you to the area?"
Lucas looked over towards his clothes which he saw hanging in the tent. "It's a long story. Would you mind if I got dressed?"
"Of course," the man said, standing. "I and my uncle retrieved the items from your car and brought them to camp. Very nice suits," he smiled. "My friends and I were admiring them. We also hitched your car up to a team of horses and pulled it out of the creek. It is in a safe spot, although it will not start."
Lucas nodded, wishing he had Joseph's mechanical talents at that moment. Perhaps there would be someone in town whenever he made his way there.
"Thank you," Lucas replied. "For rescuing me and my things."
Theo smiled. "You are welcome. Take your time. I will return later."
Dr. Simone Nelson was impressed with the young boy sitting in her office. When the Coulters brought Jack in, he sat in a chair without a fuss, crossed his feet, and laid his hands on his lap as if in a classroom.
The response made perfect sense with a teacher for a mother.
After only a couple of moments of introduction, Nelson asked the Coulters to leave them alone so she could get to know their son a bit better. She had learned long ago that children tended to open up more when their parents weren't around. Glancing at the lad, she smiled. He certainly didn't look the way he had been described to her.
But looks could be deceiving, and she was certain that was the case here. This being their first meeting, she had to get a feel for how the boy was doing emotionally. Therapy would be ongoing, but building trust and rapport was very important between a doctor and patient. The two of them sat at a child-sized table with a piece of paper in front of each of them and some crayons in the center. Nelson picked up a yellow one and began drawing a sun in the top right corner of her sheet.
"Well, Jack. Tell me about yourself."
Looking up as she spoke, an almost imperceptible nervous body shift didn't escape her notice.
"I'm Jack Thornton, and I'm five years old." He said as the crayons captured his attention, and he took a brown one.
"Those are things the Coulters told me. I want you to tell me something about you that I don't know. Can you do that?"
"Yes."
The doctor knew the one-word response would be followed by more, so she waited and watched as the boy squirmed in his seat and glanced around the room. "Am I sick?"
Not what she was expecting, but that was the beauty of working with youngsters- they tended to blurt out what was on their mind at the time and were usually easier to help than adults because of it.
"Why do you ask that, Jack? Do you feel sick?"
"No, I'm not feeling bad...it's just that you're a doctor. And I normally go to a doctor when I'm sick."
She smiled at his sound reasoning. "I'm not that type of doctor, so I'm glad you aren't feeling bad. Your paren... the Coulters thought that maybe the two of us could talk. Would you like that?
"I think so," he answered as the shape of a building began to develop on his paper.
"Good."
A stillness fell over the room as they drew in silence for a time. Simone was about to ask another question when the boy finally spoke softly.
"I miss my mom."
"Can you tell me about her?" The words were gentle. Nelson had lost her own mother at a young age, so she knew some of the feelings that Jack was dealing with. But she had a father around to help pick up the pieces. That wasn't the case here.
"She was pretty. And smart. Mama was a teacher."
"Was?" Here is where she had to be cautious. Watching as his eyes filled with tears, Simone had to swallow the lump in her own throat. So young and already so much hurt in his life.
"She died and went to Heaven with my Daddy."
"I'm sorry to hear that, Jack." Nelson noticed that a picture of a house had taken shape, and the boy was now working on some people, switching out colors regularly. He used a soft touch and bright colors as he drew a woman- presumably his mother- with long hair and blue eyes, holding the hand of a little boy. But when he began on another character standing with them, he used a black crayon and hard strokes. The man who appeared had dark hair and eyes- indeed, everything about him was dark because it was drawn with black, but it was the expression on the boy's face that intrigued her the most.
The whole time he had been in the room, he had remained passive and calm. But now he looked angry. Jack quickly completed the last character and slammed his crayon down on the table, indignantly crossing his arms over his chest.
"May I see what you drew?" Dr Nelson asked as she reached for the artwork at Jack's nod.
His talent was advanced for a five-year-old as she observed the house and the woman and child standing in front of it smiling. She wasn't certain, but it appeared the woman had angel wings. They were drawn in white and resembled the clouds in the sky, but yes, they definitely looked like wings. The colors were blended nicely.
Then, she gazed at the last character. It was as if it was drawn by a different person. He was colored hastily and with little care of staying inside the lines. Everything was black- his hair and eyes, his beard, his suit and tie. Whoever this person was, Jack had some strong emotions regarding him.
"Jack, can you tell me who these people are?"
"No. I don't want to talk anymore," he quickly replied before jumping up, throwing open the door, and running out of the room.
Lucas got dressed and made his way out of the tent to find himself in the midst of a small subtribe of Woodland Cree. It was still very chilly outside but they were keeping busy. Stepping out onto the cold, hard ground, he immediately felt sensitivity in his digits and looked down at his hands. He flexed them to keep the blood flowing.
"Greetings," a man called out.
Lucas turned and was welcomed by the warm smile of the older man whose children had found him. "My name is Pimâtâmaskwa, but I am called Lewis. I am glad to see you are okay. My children have been worried."
"Thank you," Lucas responded. "Were they the ones…?"
"Yes. My youngest, Alawa, has been praying for you daily. She will be happy to see you are awake."
"I am grateful," Lucas said, turning toward an approaching group.
"Good morning!" an even older woman with a round face and a cheerful expression said as she walked toward him. Two children and Suki accompanied her.
"There is your boyfriend," the mischievous male child said, elbowing Suki. The young woman blushed.
"Behave, Abel," she said, covering her mouth.
Lucas nodded with respect as they approached and as Lewis introduced the medicine woman, Chenoa, along with his children, Abel and Alawa. Suki was his niece.
Before he could say much, the elderly woman began examining his hands with satisfaction.
"You are healing nicely," she said. "My grandmother's herbal remedy has never failed."
"A remedy for frostbite, I presume?" he asked.
"Yes. It is made from sap and herbs. My grandmother's mother taught her the ways of medicine, and she taught them to me. Now, I am teaching Suki."
Lucas looked toward the young woman and smiled. "I see."
Suki stepped forward, taking his hand from her grandmother and gently stroking it. "I have been assisting Grandmother while you have been recovering. I have many skills."
"Thank you for your care," he responded politely.
"Oh, my pleasure," she smiled. "You are a good patient. You have very long fingers. Very handsome ones."
Bouchard raised his eyebrow, having never been told his fingers were handsome and not knowing how to respond. He was relieved when Theo walked up to the group carrying some raw meat on a platter that had recently been cleaned. Suki took a step back when Theo threw a stern look her way.
"Please take this to Nîpisîy. She will need it for tonight's dinner."
Nodding curtly, Suki took the platter from her brother and then smiled once more at Lucas in a flirtatious manner before making her way away from the group. Theo shook his head.
"I again apologize for my sister," he said, looking to Lewis and Chenoa.
"It's fine. Please," Lucas responded, not wanting the young woman to get in any trouble.
"Let us know if she makes you uncomfortable," Chenoa responded. "We want you to feel at home."
"Thank you," Lucas said, looking around at his surroundings. "Where exactly are we…in terms of location?"
"We are about ten miles from Rockfort in that direction," Lewis said, beckoning for him and Theo to follow as they said goodbye to Chenoa and the children. "Benson Hills is about twenty miles in that direction."
Acclimating himself to the local roads, Bouchard realized that meant he was about fifteen miles from home.
"Were you heading to one of those places?" Lewis asked.
Lucas shook his head. "No. Hope Valley."
Unexpectedly, the men stopped.
"Hope Valley is gone," Theo said.
"Yes, I know," Bouchard replied. "I lived there but was away at the time of the fires. I guess I came back to say goodbye."
Lewis nodded thoughtfully. "You will find it very sad. But then again, the spirit over it always brought sadness. It was destined to eventually end this way."
Lucas tilted his head with surprise. "What do you mean?"
The men began to walk again.
"We do not call it Hope Valley," Theo said. "We call it posiskahcâw Ita pôni-pimâtisiwin owîkiw – the valley where Death dwells."
Lucas frowned as Lewis picked up the story.
"Originally, the lands on which the town was built were Cree lands. But when the coal mine was discovered, the Cree were driven off the land, and the settlers came in. Blood was shed where the town was built. A spirit, a Wendigo, whom we associate with calamity or death, has resided there ever since."
"A Wendigo?"
"A very angry spirit," Theo explained. "It is angry at the theft and the disrespect shown to the land by the mining company."
Lucas furrowed his brow. "But the mining company has been gone for at least five years."
"But the town remained," Lewis said. "The people who lived there settled on stolen land. Even after the earth told them they were not welcome there, they stayed on bloody soil."
"I sincerely doubt that any of them knew of the bloodshed. They were widows who came with their husbands for a job. They wanted to give their children a better life," Lucas protested. "They purchased the land from the mining company."
"The Wendigo does not see it that way," Lewis responded. "The land belonged to everyone until the Mining company came. We were driven out and lost everything. In casting us out, in treating us as they did, they brought about a curse. "
"That doesn't sound like the residents of Hope Valley," Lucas responded. "They are generally quite peaceful toward people, regardless of their background."
"Not all," Lewis said. "Especially not the one they called Spurlock."
Lucas stopped. "Julius Spurlock, the Pinkerton?" he asked, remembering the burly sidekick of Wyman Walden, who, to his knowledge, was still serving time in Granville Prison.
"No," Lewis said. "Charles Spurlock. He worked for the mining company at the very beginning before the one named Gowen came. Spurlock was cruel to us and saw to it that we were driven out of the area around the mine, but that was not good enough for him. He hired men to hunt us and drive us further. My wife was heavy with child at that time, and I lost her and the child."
"Dear Heavens," Lucas's heart clenched inside. "The children's mother?"
Lewis nodded.
"And my sister," Theo replied.
Lucas shook his head. "I am very sorry. I knew about none of this. I came to Hope Valley later in its history, and eventually purchased the property that the mine was situated on after the disaster. In fact, I owned the mineral rights throughout most of the valley. I dealt with the mining company owners for a time. I can promise you that I neither approve of their methods nor of them. Had I known what they had done, I would have tried to make it right, somehow."
"Some things are not recoverable," Lewis replied. "But it is good that you feel that way. We have been through a lot as a people and have learned to judge people individually. We are not the Wendigo, however. It is not so forgiving. I would tread lightly if you decide to return to that town."
Bouchard considered his words as a sudden darkness hovered over his heart.
Tilly walked down the hallway, following the maid as she led her toward what was once Lucas's bedroom. The Bouchard Estate was stately, beautiful, and somewhat formal. There weren't a lot of personal items around the mansion, though Tilly could see that was changing. Photographs of Jenny, of her children, of the Grant's wedding, and one of Lucas and a woman whom Tilly assumed was Elizabeth posing with a little boy captured her attention. She stopped and picked up the photo.
She was beautiful. She thought – and not at all like her. Lucas looked happy and confident. They looked happy – like a little family. Her beau had lost a lot.
"This way, ma'am," the maid, Mary, said as she stood in a doorway, pointing her way to a room. Tilly set the photo of Lucas, Elizabeth, and Jack back on the table and then made her way inside.
Bouchard's bedroom was large and open, with large windows that overlooked the courtyard in the back and with fine furnishings. She could tell that Helen Bouchard had a hand in its décor. But beyond that, it was all Lucas. Mementos from past adventures sat on the shelves and furniture: a baseball signed by famed pitcher Cy Young, souvenirs from the Chicago World's Fair in 1893, the one in Brussels in 1897, the one in Paris in 1900, the one in Buffalo, NY in 1901 and the one in St. Louis in 1904. Looking closer, she noted a photograph of a young, clean-shaven Bouchard with Louis Blériot, a Frenchman who was the first to fly across the English Channel, connecting continental Europe with Great Britain. From the way he was dressed, she could tell that Bouchard was a student of flight, and from a few of the other items in the room, she could tell he had his license. His many accomplishments were impressive, but not as impressive as the humility he exhibited in not bragging about them. Her love was quite the man.
Tilly's exploration was interrupted by a sing-song voice of Helen as she and Jenny entered the room to see that Rasmussen had everything she needed.
"I trust that all of your things made it to your room in one piece?" Helen said, stepping closer to Tilly, who was startled by her presence.
She smiled with embarrassment. "To tell you the truth, I haven't even looked. I was just admiring Lucas's things."
Helen nodded. "My son is a man of many interests. We are very proud of him."
"As you should be," she responded. "Have we heard any word from his friends in Union City about how he is doing?"
Jenny shook her head. "They don't really know. He left about the time we were returning to North America and was going to Hope Valley. He promised he would send them a telegram once he got settled."
Tilly nodded. "Well, I'm sure he'll check in soon."
"I'm sure you're right, dear," Helen responded. "But speaking of checking in, while we were on the ship, I sent my own wire and had Holt Renfrew in Quebec City send over a few items for the baby's nursery. I've selected just the room that he or she can stay in. It will be close to your's and Lucas's room so you may reach it when needed. There is room for a nanny on the other side if you wish to take advantage of it.
"My and Lucas's room?" she asked. "You're assuming he still wants to marry me."
"Of course, he will," Jenny replied. "Particularly when he learns of the baby."
Tilly frowned. "I don't want him to know."
"What?!" Helen asked, surprised.
"Not just yet," Tilly responded. "If we hear from him, nobody is to tell him or his friends about the baby. I want to make sure that coming back is what he truly wants. I want him to be happy."
"He is going to want to be a father to this child," Jenny replied.
"And he will be. But perhaps his feelings will have changed. I need to make sure. It's not just me that will be affected now. I have a little life inside of me to consider. Please promise me you will not tell him."
Jenny and Helen looked at one another nervously, then agreed to do so – a promise they would keep for the next several months.
A week passed, and then another, and soon Lucas Bouchard was quickly becoming accustomed to the life of the natives. His new friends had persuaded him to stay until the ice thawed and then included him in every part of their life. During the day, he helped the men gather wood and supplies they needed to keep the camp going, and at night, he would sit around the campfire and enjoy their storytelling as well as the entertainment they provided.
The Chowans, in particular, adopted him into their family. Each day, Suki made sure that she was the first one he saw in the morning and the last one he saw at night, and the children treated him as if he was their new uncle. Lucas was appreciative and polite but tried not to encourage the attention – particularly regarding Suki. It wasn't that she wasn't beautiful or sweet. It's that romance was the furthest thing from Lucas's mind – especially after losing Tilly. Still, he was very lonely.
Seeming to sense this, Chenoa called him to her side one evening about two weeks after he arrived, saying it was 'an emergency.' Always willing to help, Lucas made his way to her tent to discover Lewis sitting in the tent next to his sleeping children.
"You found him," the man whispered.
A curious Bouchard looked between Lewis and his mother and shrugged. "What's wrong?"
"You are my second shift," Lewis replied, bending down to pick up Alawa. The man then turned to Abel and shook him awake.
"Are they here yet?" the little boy asked.
"No, son. Mr. Bouchard will stay with her, though. Come and get some rest."
Lucas furrowed his brow in confusion but soon all became clear when Chenoa led him to the opposite side of her bed where the family's German Shepherd lay panting in labor.
"You go stand by her head and comfort her. I will stay by her feet as she delivers."
Lucas's eyes widened slightly, but he got into position and stroked the dog as her pain increased. In the wee hours of the morning, the pups finally came – three girls and two boys, the runt of which arrived with curled ears. Lucas had never experienced such an event and was mesmerized by the process. When it was clear she was done, Lucas bent down and gently hugged the mama.
"That's a good girl. You did really well. Now rest."
Seeing his care for the mother reenforced in Chenoa's mind her decision. "You did good as well," she said. "Now, you can choose."
"Choose?"
"As payment for helping, you can have your pick from the litter."
The little boy within suddenly rose up within him, and Lucas smiled. There was only one dog that would do. "May I have that one?" he said, pointing toward the runt.
Chenoa looked at him, confused. "But he is imperfect."
"Not for me. For me, he's perfect."
"Bear" would stay with his litter for the next eight weeks, but as the pup grew, Lucas would take him out more and more. And so it was that Lucas and Bear began their journey together, one that would last many years.
In Bellingham, Jack's therapy sessions continued but with limited success. Always polite, the child was somewhat talkative until it came time to talk about the man in his drawing, whom Dr. Nelson learned from Rosemary was likely Lucas Bouchard, his late mother's former fiancé. When Nelson mentioned his name, in fact, Jack would initially just turn away, refusing to talk for the rest of the session. So, she would have him draw instead, and it was in the drawings that she was able to discern that Lucas was an element in the boy's grief.
Showing Rosemary and Lee one particularly active drawing in which there was a mother and father stick figure with a baby standing next to a house with blue shutters on one side of the page and a woman and man flying above, the man being in red. In the center of the page was a crying stick figure. And to the right of him, in the distance, the bearded figure who was drawn with a harder stroke and in all black. When Simone asked the couple about him, she initially feared that perhaps Lucas had been abusive toward the boy, but upon speaking with the Coulters realized this was most likely not the case.
"Lucas Bouchard is one of the kindest, most giving men we know and he was always gentle with Jack. He loved the boy," Lee said.
"Adored him," Rosemary replied. "They were buddies, and Jack was so excited that he was going to be his new daddy."
Nelson nodded with consideration, writing some notes about the relationship as the Coulters spoke, and, in her next session, reached out to the boy with a hunch.
"Jack, I know you don't want to talk about Lucas. Is it because you think he's angry with you over your mommy dying?"
Immediately, the boy stopped coloring and lowered his head, and she saw his chin quiver.
"Are you angry?" she asked again.
Jack didn't answer.
"Do you think he's angry with you?"
Jack did not answer again for the longest time but instead sat and stared at the drawing in front of him, finally taking his arm and swiping it across the table, knocking everything on the ground. "I hate him!"
Immediately, the boy stood with Dr. Simone trying to catch up with him. "Jack! Wait!"
"I want to go home," he said tearfully. "I want Auntie Rosie."
That evening, Jack wouldn't eat and went to bed early. His adopted parents didn't sleep at all.
"What are we going to do, Lee?" Rosemary asked. "Nothing seems to be helping."
A hopeless Lee shook his head. "I don't know, Sweetheart. I just don't know."
Canine friends were not the only ones that Lucas made during his time with the Cree. Theo, an Indian named James, and James's 22-year-old brother, Wilhoit, became almost like the brothers that Bouchard never had. They would take Lucas hunting with them in the mornings and were quite impressed with how he handled a bow.
"I was on the archery team in college," he explained as they sat in a clearing on a break from hunting. "I would have made the 1908 Olympics had we not moved from London back to Montreal."
"Talented and good-looking," the newly-married James, who was closer to Lucas's age, joked. "And you haven't a woman?"
Lucas smiled softly and then looked down toward the ground. "I have been in love twice. My fiancée, I lost to death."
"I am sorry. And the second?" he asked.
"My own stupidity. I should have stayed and confronted something, but I chose to leave. And I lost her to another man." Bouchard stood and walked back to his horse, which was a brown and white Pinto horse, just like the one he used to ride in Hope Valley. The Indians had found the horse roaming, and Lucas wondered if perhaps it was the same one.
"Well, these women must not have been your fate. Perhaps my sister and you will make a family after all," Theo smiled. Bouchard noticed that Wilhoit stiffened just a bit and then became quiet and filed that thought away.
"I've come to the conclusion that a family may not be in the cards for me," he responded. "Your sister is beautiful. But I'm afraid my heart is not open."
Again, Bouchard noticed a change in posture from his young friend. Relief, perhaps?
"Too bad," Theo replied. "The Chowans could stand another strong brave in our family."
Lucas grinned. "You just want me to teach you archery."
Theo laughed out loud, and James looked toward the sky. "I think it is time to return to camp. It looks like it may snow."
"Yes, you are right," Theo replied after surveying the situation. "I will get our things."
In Montreal, Tilly had settled in and was trying to respectfully steer clear of Helen's ambitions for her life. Remaining ever hopeful that Lucas would return to her before the baby was born, she helped the baby's grandmother decorate the nursery inside the Bouchard mansion and grew closer to the people who had already adopted her as family. She especially felt close to Lucas's father who was less pushy than Helen and quite gentle toward her in her situation. He admitted he was taking on the mantle of protecting her in Lucas's absence, but she sensed it was something more. It was as if he saw her as his actual daughter – though she didn't know if it was something within him that caused him to draw close to her in that way or because she had had no contact with her father, the king, since they'd left her home country.
She would later find out that the reason for his hovering presence was because he felt there truly was some danger for her because Martin had been covertly working with Prince Gregori, who had put his entire position on the line by defying his father's wishes and going after Melrose. Gathering the king's chief advisors together, they, along with Bouchard, gathered all of the financial transactions as well as communications they could find to discover what relationship, if any, Melrose had with the rebels. Given the king blamed Tilly and not Michael for the embarrassing breakup when he found out about Gregori's actions, he was furious. In fact, he'd nearly stripped Gregori of his title. However, thanks to a special discovery by Martin with Pinkerton assistance, by the time the king confronted him about it, Gregori had the evidence he needed in hand. Witnesses and written documents conclusively proved that Melrose was in collusion with the rebels and funding their activities against the kingdom of Dashma.
The king and queen were astonished.
"His plan was to marry Tilly," Gregori explained. "And then see to it that you, I, and Anastasia were overthrown. He would then negotiate with the rebels to become the new king, with his marriage to Tilly providing the royal connection to claim legitimacy."
"Dear Heavens!" the Queen exclaimed. "What you're saying is had Tilly married him, we were within weeks to months of finding ourselves murdered, like the Romanovs?"
"Very possibly," Gregori stated. "I've taken the liberty to have the Royal Police arrest him. We believe he is at the Elisan Resort meeting with the French Interior Minister concerning a building contract."
The King remained silent for some time until Charlotte reached over and took his hand. "Are you alright, dear?"
Alexei nodded, then looked toward his son. "You saw what I could not see."
"Something did not sit right with me. I'm sorry I had to go around you."
Alexei became thoughtful again but said nothing more. "Please excuse me," he said, standing and walking away.
The ashen king took to his room for the next several hours, asking not to be disturbed. In the meantime, Gregori took the time to call Tilly.
"And that was all he said?" she responded. "Michael was attempting a coup d'etat and planned to kill his family, and he says, 'I see?' Gregori? Who is this man who fathered us?"
"In his defense, Tilly, I believe he was too shocked to speak."
"He's the king!"
"Let's wait and hear from him. Perhaps now that he knows, he will make amends for what he did to you."
Tilly shook her head, even though Gregori couldn't see it. "It is no longer important to me what he does with our relationship. He has made his decision, and it was what he had to do. His duty means everything to him and with good cause. Many rely on him. So, I hope he finds fulfillment and happiness, truly. It's just not the life for me. I do, however, worry for our people and for you and Anastasia."
"We are safe," Gregori stated. " But don't shut the door. Family is very important."
"I have family enough with the Bouchards – and, of course, you and Annie."
"And if Lucas never returns?"
Tilly paused, her mind fighting a slight apprehension that her heart refused to consider. "He will," she responded. I know he will."
Later that evening, Lucas and his friends returned to camp. As they sat around the campfire, he laughed at the children as they did a very rough 'fire dance' for him and then blushed when Suki joined in. Her womanly figure was enough to capture any man's attention, particularly one who was touch-starved as he was. But Lucas was a gentleman, and while many men would have jumped at the chance to receive what she was offering, he was not that way. Still, the way she was behaving in front of him was so suggestive he knew that he had a problem that would need to be addressed sooner rather than later.
Glancing over at Wilhoit, he recognized a secondary issue, which, if true, could also be a problem. Lucas could tell, as he observed the young man, that he was stewing over the attention. But Suki only had eyes for him. Somehow, he would have to dissuade her, he thought. He'd soon find out that dissuasion would require a direct approach.
At a little before ten o'clock, the group retired for the evening, and Bouchard changed for bed. He had been afforded his own private tent for privacy, with a small firepit inside. And, while he had his usual city clothes, including his union suits, due to the cozy atmosphere with a fire in the tent, he found it much more comfortable to adopt the dress of the Indians, which consisted of mainly a breechcloth. He had just changed and sat on the cot when he heard a noise at the edge of the tent. Looking up, he watched as Suki came in through the flap and stepped into the tent without a word.
Before he could greet her, she promptly dropped the cloak she was wearing down to the ground and would have removed the bra-like garment she had underneath had Bouchard not spoken up.
"S…Suki…w…what are you doing?" he croaked. "No!"
A few feet away, outside his tent, Lewis and Theo were passing by and heard the voices.
"Did he say Suki is in there?" Lewis asked.
Looking at the side of the tent, they could see her silhouetted form through the canvas fabric and could tell that she was wearing next to nothing. An angry Theo began to storm towards the entrance, but Lewis held him back.
"I have come to lie with you tonight to show you I can make you a good wife," Suki said, walking toward his bed. "I make you feel good the way a woman does for a man."
Theo clenched his jaw in anger.
"Suki, I'm afraid there has been some misunderstanding," Lucas said, diverting his eyes and reaching for his blanket.
"A misunderstanding?" she said, leaning further toward him and placing her hand toward the side of his jaw to turn his face toward her for a kiss.
Quickly, he stood and wrapped her in the blanket. "You shouldn't be in here. You need to go."
"But, I just…."
"Suki. I am sorry if I misled you in any way that…well….that I would be…well….Suki, this can't happen."
"No?"
"No."
"Do I displease you?"
"No…yes….it…it doesn't matter. This isn't right, and you need to get dressed."
"I do not understand," she said, beginning to whelm up. "I thought this is what men want? It is what the magazines from the general store in Buxton said."
Lucas turned away from her slightly to look for his own clothes. "The magazines in Buxton are there to make money and any man worth his salt is not going to be after that as a primary reason for being with you. Once you're married, yes. That is something you will share with your husband – something special you should give to only him. Please put on your garment, and I can explain further."
While Suki grabbed her cloak and got dressed, Lewis raised an eyebrow toward Theo. "This needed to happen," he whispered. "She needs to understand."
Theo nodded. "We will stay to make sure she leaves."
"As you wish."
Once Lucas and Suki were fully clothed, Bouchard sat her next to the firepit and took her by the hands. "Suki, you are a very beautiful young woman. I…I'm flattered that you would be interested in a broken-down old gambler like me."
"You are very handsome."
He chuckled nervously. "Thank you. But physical attraction is only one part of what makes a good relationship, and quite frankly, it's the least important part."
"Oh, I know! I can cook, and I can sew, and I can give you many children…"
"Yes…" Lucas's eyes softened as he squeezed her hands. "And I'm sure you will do all of those things very well for someone someday. But the relationship should be for you, too. And it should be for the two of you together. Suki, when a relationship between a man and a woman is good, there is a connection of souls and minds and hearts – not just body. Your needs, hopes and desires will matter to him just as his will to you. A wife is not someone just to be used for a man's physical pleasure and feeding. She's to be his best friend and he hers. And you deserve that, Suki and you should accept nothing less. You deserve a man who will be as devoted to you as you are to him, who will be your friend and your lover and provide for you and your children, and you should wait for him. Before you give your virtue to any man, you should wait until he has made that commitment to you, to love you, honor you, cherish you, forever."
"But you can be that man, no?" she asked, almost pleading.
"No," he said, releasing her hands. "I'm afraid I can't."
"Is it because I'm too young?"
Lucas sighed. "Age may or may not create some significant differences in a marriage, but often, those relationships work out quite well. The truth of the matter is I can't because I can never give you my heart. I already gave it away. And I never got it back. I still love her. I always will."
"This woman is a fool!"
Lucas smiled softly. "Perhaps. But she isn't the one who did wrong here. And sometimes, we get the life we deserve.
But you… you have your whole life ahead of you. Take your time and find the man worthy of you. And hold off on making any sort of moves like that until you are married and he has committed to you. Trust me. I promise you will not regret it."
Suki listened to Lucas and sadly nodded her head, having finally understood what it was he was saying. A tear ran down her cheek as she thanked him for being honest with her and apologized if she made him uncomfortable.
"It's fine," he replied, and this time he meant it. Hugging her, he encouraged her once more about her own worth and then sent her back to her tent. Theo and Lewis waited in the shadows until she left.
"Bouchard is a good man," Theo finally said.
"Yes, he is."
In early April, Tilly decided to travel into the city to purchase some maternity clothes. She was now beginning to show, and despite the fact she couldn't share this time with Lucas was still enjoying each moment of her pregnancy, confident that he would be there by the time the baby was born and that all would be well. The Bouchard's driver, Peter, drove her to town and accompanied her into a department store. After spending about an hour shopping, the princess began to become fatigued and decided she needed to take a break for lunch, so she let Peter carry her bags to the automobile while she made her way toward a café that she knew of from an earlier visit with Jenny. That's when they appeared.
"Princess Ottilia!"
What seemed like a sea of reporters appeared around her, pushing toward her and trapping her in their midst. Blanching at their forwardness, she backed away, instinctively covering her tummy to protect her baby. This only drew attention to it and the accompanying photographer snapped a picture.
"She's expecting!" he yelled out.
Tilly's heart pounded and she looked around for any way of escape as she was peppered with questions from the impudent men.
"Are you and Michael Melrose back together? What are your thoughts on his arrest?" the reporter said.
"When is the baby due? Did the two of you elope?"
"Did the king send you here?"
"We understand there is a rift in the monarchy. Is that true?"
They kept on and on to where she was beginning to go into a panic over her safety. "I need to go."
"Where are you staying?"
"Please, I need to go," she pushed beyond one of the guards but found a female reporter taking his place and blocking her as if it were a game.
"Did you come here because you got knocked up?" she said rudely.
Tilly began feeling dizzy. "Please, I need…" she looked around for the driver and any way of escape. "Please….help….help me…" she said meekly.
Immediately, another flash of photography blinded her, and before she knew it, she heard a smashing sound and a crunch. She turned her head just in time to see Peter kicking a broken camera out of the way, and that was the last she remembered before collapsing to the ground.
The room slowly came into focus as Tilly opened her eyes, only to see three sets of concerned eyes watching over her. She blinked.
"Wh…what happened?" The faces of Martin and Helen Bouchard immediately showed anger.
"You passed out," Jenny finally said.
"Passed out?"
Helen looked at Martin, then back at Tilly. "From the way we understand it, those awful people in the press spotted you going into the department store and swarmed you when Peter went to get the car. It became too much, and you collapsed."
Tilly furrowed her brow as she tried to remember. "I remember, I felt dizzy…" She gasped, touching her belly. "Is the baby….?"
"The baby is fine," Martin said, touching her shoulder. "The hospital thinks you may have been a little dehydrated, which may have contributed…"
"Hospital?"
"Yes. You're at St. Mary's Hospital for Mothers. It's the first place Peter thought to bring you in Montreal," Helen continued.
"They say you and the baby will be fine," Jenny replied.
Tilly sat up further. "What a relief. But, the reporters…they asked me about the baby…"
"Don't worry about the reporters. They won't print a word of it," Martin replied.
"No?"
"No," Helen said. "Between Peter physically destroying one of their cameras and the phone calls my husband made to the owners of the papers…"
"All of whom are personal friends," Lucas's father added with a grin.
"They know not to print a word," Helen finished.
"But we can't keep them away from you forever," Jenny added. "Nathan believes it is not safe for you."
"Which is why we've made arrangements for you to stay in the country where nobody will know you," Helen said.
"Move? I…I haven't been here that long."
"But they know you're here now," Martin said. "I believe you'll like where you're going. You'll be staying with an old spinster cousin of Helen's."
"Yes, my cousin Colette. She is the superintendent of the orphan's home in Champlain. It's about 2 hours Northeast of here."
"Two hours away?"
"Yes. You can have privacy, and you and the baby will be in no danger," Jenny said.
"And then, in a few months, while you're still able to travel, we will get together again," Helen added. "You can go with us to San Francisco, where we spend our winter."
Tilly's mind was spinning, but everything they said made sense, so she didn't protest.
A few days later, a group of men from the camp got into their wagons and headed to the town of Rockfort in order to purchase some hay. They needed three wagons full to supply their way north and had kept an eye on the prices, making sure they had enough money to purchase what they needed. Theo led the group but returned quickly, empty-handed.
"Why are you back so soon?" Lewis asked. "Where is the feed?"
"The man would not sell them to me. He said I didn't have enough – even though the sign said that I had plenty."
"The same man as before?"
"Yes," Theo replied. "I even offered to buy what I could afford but he kept adjusting the price on me."
"Do we have enough to last until we reach Belmont?"
Theo nodded. "I hope so."
Bouchard had been nearby when this discussion was happening and felt his anger growing. He walked up to the men to see if he had heard correctly. "Were you saying someone in Rockfort won't sell you the hay?"
Theo shook his head. "The sign said a dollar fifty a bale. He wanted to charge me over three dollars."
"Did he give a reason as to why?"
Theo held out his arms and motioned to his appearance. "He apparently doesn't like the Cree. It isn't fair."
Lucas turned toward his tent to grab his suit coat and tie. "Don't put the wagons away. We're going back to town."
Rockfort was a town not unlike Hope Valley, perhaps a little smaller. It had one restaurant, a barber shop, and a blacksmith. The restaurant had a section that served as the mayor's office and there was a small Methodist church at the edge of town. The people even reminded Bouchard of his old hometown, but he wasn't there to make friends. It was the livery that interested him.
"Excuse me," Lucas said, walking forward toward an older man with a rough exterior who automatically sized Bouchard up as someone with wealth.
"Yes, sir. May I help you?"
"I was wondering if I might get some service." Bouchard pulled out his solid gold pocket watch and twirled it in the air, checking the time.
Immediately, the man moved toward him, sticking out his hand.
"Certainly. Always happy to help," the man said, a greedy look on his face. "What can I do you for?"
"Um, I would like to purchase thirty-six bales of hay."
The man grinned. "Sure. I think we can accommodate that. Where are your wagons?"
Lucas walked to the edge of the building and pretended to be reading some notices on a bulletin board. "Just down the street."
"Okay. Pull them up. At a dollar a bale, that will be thirty-six dollars."
Lucas pursed his lip. "A dollar a bale? That's cheap."
"Going rate."
"Well, that's interesting because my friend told me that you tried to charge him three dollars a bale for the same amount."
The man squinted. "Your friend?"
"Theo. Would you mind coming here for a moment?"
From around the corner, the warrior walked, standing next to Lucas, who crossed his arms. "Didn't you tell me that this gentleman was trying to charge you three dollars a bale for hay not two hours ago?"
"Yes."
"The same hay I see stacked over there?"
"Yes."
"I see," Lucas responded. "I wonder why that was. Would you mind telling me why you were trying to charge my friend three times the amount you were going to charge me for the same merchandise?"
"Well…I…."
"I mean, it would seem to me that his money spends the same as my money. So what earthly reason would you have to overcharge him?"
The man took a step forward. "Because he ain't like us. And I don't want him around."
"Ain't like us how? He breathes the same air as us, we eat the same food, we have the same needs as human beings, and his horses need to eat just like yours do."
"I don't cater to reds. Okay?"
"Reds? Do you mean you won't sell merchandise to Cree Indians at the same price you do white men?"
"That's right."
"I see. Well, that means you're in violation of Provincial Code 125.783 regarding the realm's duties towards its native populations. Looks like I'll have to shut you down."
The man squinted his eyes. "Excuse me?"
Bouchard reached into his pocket and pulled out his wallet, flashing its contents so quickly that the man couldn't tell that the identification that Lucas carried with him was a New York state driver's license, complete with official seal. "Lucas Bouchard, with the Alberta Bureau for Indian Affairs. I am doing an audit of the region and it would seem that you are in violation of the law. Now, I would suggest you take this man's money without complaint or I will have to reach out to my good friend Governor Lissing in order to expedite the closure of your establishment. With the coming election, the governor has not been in the best of moods recently due to complaints arising from these territories."
"You wouldn't."
"I certainly would."
The man glared at Lucas for one moment, then looked at Theo and got to work. Lucas turned toward his friend and winked.
"I'll see you at the wagon."
On the way back to the campsite, Lucas's friends couldn't stop talking about what he had done for them, praising him so profusely that Bouchard began to feel uncomfortable.
"I only did what anyone else would do."
"Not true," said Theo. "Most look at us as a nuisance. You have treated us like men, and you have been our true friend. I believe it's time we adopt you as a member of our tribe."
Lucas smiled. "I appreciate the gesture, but I'm not sure that you want that kind of trouble."
"Nonsense," James replied. "We have been blessed by knowing you."
Bouchard bowed his head and smiled softly. "I'm nothing special."
"You are too humble. You never complained to or about us. You joined right in with us…."
"You saved my life."
"Even so, you kept watch over us and helped wherever you could," Theo replied. "In fact, I think that is what we should call you -'Askuwheteau.' He who keeps watch."
Lucas smiled at the thought. It did his heart well to know he'd helped these good people.
About a half hour later, the men returned to camp and began to disperse. As they secured the wagons, Lucas spotted Wilhoit watching Suki playing with the children. The look on the man's face was unmistakably one of love.
Bouchard pursed his lips and walked up to the brave.
"You like her, don't you?" Lucas asked Wilhoit pointedly. The businessman had been watching his young Cree friend for the last few weeks and discerned his suspicions were true.
Wilhoit, however, tried to play ignorant. "Like who?"
"Suki. Who else? I see the way you look at her."
The Indian looked embarrassed. "She is a child."
"She's nearly twenty years of age- a young woman and quite beautiful. You are…what? Twenty-three? Twenty-four?"
"Twenty-two," he said softly.
"There you go."
"She does not even see me."
"Do you put yourself out there?"
"What do you mean?"
"Do you make an attempt to speak to her?"
"I am not a man of words," the brave responded.
"But you are a man who likes a woman who doesn't know he exists. You're going to have to step outside of what is comfortable and show her that you are interested."
"She is interested in you."
Lucas shook his head. "I think we've taken care of that. She knows we can only ever be friends…but you…What is it that you like about her?"
Wilhoit considered the thought. "She is pretty and smart, and she makes me laugh. She is a good cook. She is always working to help people. When we were children at the school up North, she would help me with my English."
"A residential school?"
"A small mission school, out of the Presbyterian congregation in Watts Grove. We were only there for a year or two."
"But Suki is three years younger than you."
"All of us were uneducated, so we started at the same level. It was a one-room schoolhouse. Miss Gower, our teacher, was strict. Suki learned quickly. Me, James, and Theo, not so much. But Suki made a game of it and helped us learn how to read. For some time, she was just like us. She would go fishing with us. Liked to do all the boy things."
Lucas's mind suddenly recalled Allie Grant, and he smiled. "I know a girl like that."
"Yes, but then she started blossoming and becoming a woman. She was not interested in boy things anymore."
"I see. So, you lost that connection."
Wilhoit nodded. "I think she sees me as that dumb kid. James's kid brother that she went fishing with – not someone who can appreciate who she is today."
"Then we must find a way to show her."
"How?" the man asked.
Bouchard thought for just a moment, then smiled. "I have just the idea. What size are you?"
"Um…I do not know."
Lucas looked at the young man from head to toe, resting his chin in his palm, and then he nodded once. "Follow me."
In her role as princess, Ottilia Rasmussen was well accustomed to adapting quickly to whatever situation might come up. Having one's family lead a country of over two million people necessitated this adaptability. So, the idea of moving to the orphanage did not provoke anxiety within her. But when Tilly arrived at the institution, an old stone structure which, from the outside, appeared devoid of life, her heart sank. She had been in places like this before, and they weren't enjoyable. She thought about her family, and she thought about the Bouchards – now she was separated from both. Loneliness reared its head.
Arriving at her room, she was unsurprised to see it containing only the bare necessities. That's how operations like this were. Devoid of budgets it was as much as they could do to keep the water running and the children fed. Such was the case for even some of the boarding schools she attended in England as a child. This stay was going to be harder than she thought.
Taking a seat on the bed, she perked up when a young female servant came in with a tea tray.
"Welcome to Kingsgate, ma'am. My name is Emma. I'm sure you are tired after your trip up here, so I brought you some tea. There are also a few other things on the tray if you are hungry. If you should need something there is a bell next to your bed. It will ring my room."
"Thank you," Tilly said. "When might I meet the headmistress?"
"Miss Colette is out for the morning but should be back at dinner time. Dinner is served at six o'clock sharp. Those not seated do not eat."
Tilly nodded, being familiar with this kind of discipline.
"I will be at your room ten minutes before six to walk you to the area for the first time. I hope you will enjoy your stay."
"Thank you."
After Emma's departure, Tilly stood and walked to the tea tray, her stomach rumbling when she saw the generous helping of crumpets, scones, and homemade jam. Licking her lips, she reached for a saucer. Making herself a small plate, she was about to return to her bed when she noticed a local newspaper underneath the tea set. Eager to see if the press had been true to their word and had not published anything about their run-in at the department store, she picked up the paper and took it back to her bed. Setting the teacup down on her nightstand, she unfolded the paper and immediately gasped when she spotted a small headline at the bottom of page one. Melrose Convicted of Treason. Dashmanian King Abdicates.
Father abdicated? She had to call Gregori.
"Come on out. Let us see you," James's wife, Enola, said as she, James, and Theo stood waiting outside of Lucas's tent. A sense of mirth existed within the group of friends as Lucas's suggested experiment was finally coming to fruition. Bouchard was the first to exit the tent, much to the Cree's delight.
"Ooohh la la!" Theo said to everyone's laughter. "I just may marry you myself.
A bashful Bouchard lowered his head, pulling at the center of his brown leather sueded jacket with tassels, which left him bare-chested before the group. Aside from his usual modesty, he was also a bit uncomfortable over the heaviness of the animal skins against his skin versus his usual stylish garb.
"Next?" Enola said. "Don't keep us waiting, Wilhoit. You're next." She looked over at Lucas, who was trying to duck into the shadows. "You need to relax more. Loosen up, as they say. You look very nice."
Bouchard swallowed, not knowing what to say, but he didn't have to as all eyes were on his Indian friend who came out next in Lucas's favorite blue three-piece suit, white shirt, and tie.
The Indians immediately made what Bouchard assumed was the Native American version of a cat whistle, and Wilhoit quickly shushed them.
"Be quiet. We don't want her to see, remember?"
The friends nodded.
"You look amazing," Enola said. "How much did this set you back?"
Wilhoit looked over toward Lucas and smiled. "He drove a hard bargain. Three changes of clothing, my bow and arrow, and Shimmer."
"Ah, very fitting. You gave him the horse," Theo replied. "I think you may be right. It was yours anyway."
"In which case, his name is actually Tennyson, though I haven't been able to get him to respond to that," Lucas said.
"So, Shimmer it is," Enola replied.
"I suppose," Lucas said. "Now, you remember what you're supposed to say?"
Wilhoit nodded. "I'm supposed to approach her and…"
"What is this?!"
The friends turned quickly toward the approaching voices and saw Chenoa and Suki walking toward them with some supplies they had just finished packing. Suki looked at Lucas with surprise but then turned her attention toward Wilhoit in his suit.
"It was Lucas's idea," Theo said. "A Spring Dance, in honor of our sojourn ending at this place. We were going to announce it tomorrow morning."
"A dance? When?" Chenoa asked.
"Friday night, ma'am," Lucas replied. "The trek ahead is going to be tiring, so I thought perhaps it would be a nice way to celebrate the journey and have fun with each other before everyone leaves."
She smiled. "Such a resourceful young man."
"Yes, he is," Enola said. "The Mistawasis brothers have agreed to play the music."
"It sounds like it's all planned out," Suki said.
"It's kind of what I did in Hope Valley," Lucas responded.
"So, you will be our host?" she asked.
"Yes," he responded.
"Is that why you're dressed like that?"
Lucas laughed and then looked over at Wilhoit, who stepped forward.
"No. He bartered for my clothes."
She squinted her eyes. "Bartered? Why would he want your clothes…and why are you wearing his suits?"
"Because," the young man replied. "Because I wanted to ask you to the dance, and if you would say yes, I wanted to look nice."
Suki's eyes widened. "You…? You wanted to ask me?"
A look of uncertainty crossed Wilhoit's face. "Well…yes. That's…that's alright, isn't it? I mean, I understand if you would not want to, I am not pressuring you or anyth-…"
"Yes!" she smiled.
"What?"
"Yes! I'll go with you to the dance!"
"Really?"
"Yes!" she replied. "I would love to. Only, I am not sure I know what to wear. Grandma?"
Chenoa smiled. "Do not worry, child. I have just the thing. Come right this way."
Suki was dancing when she walked away, and James, Enola, and Wilhoit all laughed. Lucas smiled wistfully. Perhaps he'd made a match.
As his friends dispersed, Lucas reentered his tent and took a look at his new clothes. They weren't at all his style, and he shook his head at his impulsive move.
"Three one-hundred and fifty dollar suits…in exchange for….." He saw movement in the corner of his eye and turned to see Bear lying on his cot. He chuckled. "Hopefully, they serve him better than they did me."
Tilly sat quietly in the garden of the King's Orphanage and soaked in the comfort of the sun on her face. She needed this moment after her phone call with, now, King Gregori. So much had changed.
In speaking with her brother, Tilly had learned that with the evidence discovered in their accounts, the courts had proof of a long history of Michael Melrose acting as a double agent between the Kingdom of Dashma and its enemies. They had even found some tangential involvement between Melrose Industries, the Bolsheviks, and the overthrow of Russia (though there was no evidence that he was directly involved in the murder of the Romanov family). And, even though she wasn't in the least interested in him romantically, she was heartsick at the news. They had grown up together. How could he?
The court declared Michael guilty of treason and sentenced him to hang. His lawyers were expected to appeal, but Gregori indicated that the evidence included letters and signed communiques that proved beyond a shadow of a doubt that Melrose was a betrayer.
However, this wasn't the only shocking news he told her. It seems after the verdict was read, the King's Privy Council, noting the king's own lack of foresight and stubborn refusal to listen to counsel, which apparently consisted of more than just Gregori but several of the other noblemen – issued a vote of no confidence against King Alexei. The king offered no argument. Because of his belief in Melrose, the kingdom was nearly overthrown, and his family had fallen apart.
The king stepped down and Gregori was quietly coronated in a private ceremony due to security concerns. Since then, Tilly's brother had only spoken to their father twice. On both occasions, it was very formal and stiff, not at all like a father to a son but more like a servant to a king. Gregori knew that the whole incident had shaken the king to his core, and feared for his well-being.
"He has aged fifteen years overnight, Tilly. This was his life. This was everything. I think he feels terrible – not only for Dashma but for his failure as a father. Please keep him in your prayers. I'm very worried this may do him in," Tilly's brother said before being called to a meeting.
Hanging up the phone, Tilly's heart was broken. She felt the need to be back in Dashma to stand by her family but knew that in her current condition, it would only make things worse. Prayer was the only thing she could do.
Prayer. It seemed Tilly had been doing so much of that lately. Praying for Lucas. Praying for the baby. Praying for Dashma. Prayers to God were her only hope, and yet she sometimes felt that her prayers reached no higher than the ceiling.
Tilly had always been a good girl, practicing the faith of her family from an early age. But in her late teens and twenties, she began to see it as a necessary ritual. She'd still go to Sunday Services, but mainly because that was the thing to do. Sometimes, she'd be edified, sometimes not. But she had done her duty. She's always done her duty.
But now, she wanted more. She wanted an actual relationship with God that she'd heard from others was possible. She would soon be a mother and, hopefully, a wife, and knew they'd need God in their lives. But when she prayed, she felt nothing. No…that wasn't true. When she prayed, she felt condemned. But still, she persisted.
It was after one of these prayerful moments in the garden that she met Colette LaPier.
Tilly had just finished praying for her father and for Dashma and was raising a hand to wipe a tear from her eyes when she saw a figure standing next to her.
"Oh!"
The woman, whose sweet expression immediately disarmed her, smiled. "I'm sorry, dear. I didn't mean to startle you. You are Ottilia?"
Tilly began to stand but the woman stopped her, instead handing her a knitted shawl to place over her shoulders and sitting on the bench next to her.
"Yes. Are you Ms. LaPier?"
"Yes," Colette replied. "I am so happy to meet you. Helen has told me all about you and Lucas."
"Good, I hope?" Tilly asked.
"Oh yes, dear. She wouldn't have sent you here if she didn't have the highest opinion of you. She considers you family, and so do I! I trust you have gotten settled in your room?"
"Yes," Tilly replied. "It will do just fine."
"Well, I know it's not a palace, but if you're like me, you'll spend most of your time out here with the children anyway. It will be good practice," she smiled, touching Tilly's tummy. Ottilia smiled.
"How many children are here?"
"Twenty-two. Ages three months to seventeen years."
"Oh, my. A three-month-old?"
Colette nodded. "Yes. A foundling. A little boy we've named Charlie. Reminds me of your paramour at that age."
"You knew Lucas as a baby?"
"Oh, yes. I stayed with the Bouchards for several months as Helen was regaining her strength from having Jenny. He was such a sweet child – and a sweet young man. I'm glad he has found love in you."
"I am happy to have found him," she smiled. "I hope he comes back soon."
"Oh, I'm confident he will," Colette replied. "You are a gift from God to each other. He will be back."
Friday night rolled around, and the arrangements at the Indian campsite rivaled anything that the Queen of Hearts had ever put on. There was music and a lavish buffet, and lanterns were strung up throughout the camp, creating a warm glow. Lucas stayed busy making sure everything ran smoothly while the Cree mingled and laughed and enjoyed this their last day on site. He tried not to think inwardly too much, but when he saw Wilhoit and Suki and their happiness together while dancing, it triggered a flood of memories of dances he'd shared with both Tilly and Elizabeth – and for the first time, he felt a tinge of feeling in his heart for his former fiancée. It wasn't overwhelming, but it was as if her spirit hovered around him, beckoning him to do what he had been avoiding heretofore and leading the way. He looked out at his group of friends and felt a sense of melancholy. He had found a place where he finally fit in. But did he really?
By the time the sun came up, he was gone. Just as he did in New York, he left a note for the natives expressing his gratitude for the months he'd spent with them and wishing them well on their journey. He hoped one day that their paths would cross again but wrote to them that he had other work to do and could not come with them. And he left his pocket watch as a gift to Wilhoit.
"The suits are not complete without it," he quipped. "Consider it my wedding gift for you and Suki. May you experience every joy that life has to offer."
And then he left.
"Children, I would like for you to meet Miss Rasmussen. She's going to be staying with us a while."
Tilly smiled as she entered a large brick-walled room that would be quite drab if it weren't for the large windows within, which filled the room with sunlight and warmth. As she looked into the eyes of each beautiful child, she could see within them a life of uncertainty and pain far beyond their years, which for most was between the ages of 4 and 8.
"I'm pleased to meet you," she said as the wide-eyed children watched her walk in but did not speak. Finally, a little boy stood.
"We're pleased to meet you too, Miss," he said in a Nova Scotian accent. "You're very pretty."
A wave of snickers issued forth throughout the room until Colette threw the other children a disapproving look.
"Thank you," Tilly said. "And what is your name?"
"Lucas," the child replied, sticking out his hand to shake hers. The moment the name left his lips, Tilly's breath caught as she felt her baby move in her womb for the very first time. She would later say it was a sign, bringing her comfort that even though Lucas wasn't with her and the little boy in front of her looked nothing like him, somehow a part of him was there. And, of course, she was right - for Baby Bouchard rested within her as much a part of him as a part of her, and her heart was content.
Lucas Bouchard arrived at Hope Valley on Saturday morning just after dawn, and although the sun was up, for some reason, things remained dark where he was. Riding down the main road into town with Bear in his arms, he sensed an ominous feeling the moment he hit the parameter. It wasn't at all like the sweet, beckoning spirit that drew him there. It was something much more sinister. He considered turning back but knew he'd put things off long enough and that he needed to face his past.
When he reached the corner of Main Street and Hope Valley Road, all of the heaviness of what had happened to his beloved community hit him. There were no more busy people walking the streets saying hello to their neighbors, no more children coming out of the Ice Cream Shop with smiles on their faces, no more patrons exiting the Mercantile or the Café, and the Queen of Hearts was cold and barren, no longer the hub of anything and already falling into disrepair as the unforgiving winter winds had scarred its visage causing paint to peel and the saloon's sign to crash to the ground. The place he loved so much was gone, and his heart broke all over again.
Climbing down from Shimmer, Lucas set Bear down on the ground and walked over to his former establishment, looking in through the windows at the empty saloon. The tables were where they were the last time he saw them, but without the people, everything looked foreign. He turned around and looked around at the town from another angle, and was planning to walk down the street when suddenly, in front of the saloon, he was hit with another memory.
"Elizabeth."
He saw her in his mind's eye, just as he saw himself, standing there in front of the Queen of Hearts unloading supplies.
"Morning, Miss. You're going to apply, I hope," he said, his body shifting as he looked upon the beautiful woman with long dark hair in front of him.
"That depends, what's the position?" she coyly replied.
"Waitress."
"I see. And the qualifications?"
"Intelligence. Independence. Personality. I'd say you're perfect."
"You don't even know me," she replied incredulously.
"I can read people," he said softly. "It's what I do."
"Well, I prefer reading books."
"See, you're intelligent. I knew it."
As Lucas watched this vision, this memory came to life as if it were on a movie screen set before him, something happened. His heart and his mind began to reconnect and he was suddenly filled with an intense longing as well as a dread. He knew his heart was waking up again, that it was starting to actually feel what he felt for Elizabeth Thornton, and for a brief moment, he felt elated. But as quickly as that moment arose, it faded away, along with the vision, and once again, he was alone.
He stood there for the longest time, closing his eyes as moments of time with his beloved came flooding into his mind. Their first dance, the time she chastised him over teaching Allie a card trick, their kisses shared on this very street. Theirs had been a true love, a deep love, a love he'd always hoped for. He needed to remember more, and so he continued.
He walked down the street, looking at each building as he went by. The Old Coulter Lumber building was boarded up, as was Fionas, and the door to the jailhouse swung open. He started to cross the street to walk inside when, out of the corner of his eye, he spotted the library, and another flood of memories came through. He walked inside.
"They say a little learning can be a dangerous thing," he saw himself say.
"I don't believe that," she responded.
"I'm on the fence," he replied, standing toward the back of the room.
Elizabeth looked nervous. "Why are you so interested in setting up the library?" she asked.
"Hope Valley needs one," he responded.
His answer clearly did not satisfy her because she asked a follow-up question. "Is that the only reason? Because if I have in any way led you to believe…never mind."
Lucas could feel the romantic tension in the room and was enjoying it. "Now I'm not gonna deny that I was aware of your beauty," he said as Elizabeth's eyes widened as he slowly walked toward her. "But as I got to know you, I became fascinated by your goodness."
He could hear her heart beating in her chest as he stood beside her, or perhaps it was his own, and all he wanted to do at that moment was to kiss her. But he refrained since that was not how a gentleman behaved. He quickly let her off the hook.
"Dangerous Liaisons - one of my favorites. I wanted a library because it seemed like a good thing. No disrespect."
Lucas smiled gently as the memory disappeared. He had loved their banter, the dance they did when their intellects would play off of each other. They were well suited for one another, but it was more than that. They were soulmates.
"Why did you take her from me?" Lucas asked as tears began to fill his eyes.
Before he could think another thought, a sudden darkness filled the room, and a sense of evil and foreboding surrounded him. He hadn't noticed, but he'd left the door to the library open, and Bear had followed him inside. The puppy growled at an unseen presence.
"Who's there? Who are you?" Lucas called out as the already darkened sky filled even further with swirling dark clouds. He stepped out of the building and looked around. Dark memories began to pelt him, along with accusatory thoughts. He saw Wyman Walden and remembered having to hide out from him in Elizabeth's house, and then he saw Elizabeth's murderer, Amos Dixon. He remembered Dixon holding a gun toward Elizabeth as they went through the Queen of Hearts, and then he remembered her being shot in New Orleans. Both images flashed repeatedly before his mind in the most horrifying manner as her scream rang through his head.
If you hadn't come to town, she would still be alive.
You put her in danger. Her son lost his mother BECAUSE OF YOU. BECAUSE OF YOU. BECAUSE. OF. YOU.
Lucas put his hands on the sides of his head to cover his ears as the rain began to fall. He needed to leave. He needed to escape.
Climbing back onto Shimmer, he took off through the rain, leaving Bear behind. He galloped down the street as fast as the horse would take him, not knowing where he was going but knowing it just had to be away from town.
Lucas dashed across the field and onto the road, past the pond where they had picnicked, and into the woods. Finally, he stopped and jumped off the horse, knocking his saddlebag to the ground. The horse ran away. Sobs and shivers overcame him, and he crumpled in front of a post.
"Why? Why? Why?" he screamed. "Why, God, did you let this happen? Why did she have to die? She was everything I ever dreamed of. I waited for her patiently. I knew she would come, and then she was taken from me – because OF me! Why, oh God? Why did you let me come here? If I hadn't, she would have lived. If I hadn't, my buddy would still have his mother. Oh, God! Why was I even born?!"
Leaning against the post, his shoulders shook as the grief of Elizabeth's death finally hit him in full force, and the destruction of that emotion was almost more than he could bear. The ominous spirit that he'd experienced in town once again crowding around him.
YOU CAME HERE AS A CURSE. EVERYTHING YOU TOUCH IS CURSED. AND EVERYTHING AROUND YOU IS DESTINED TO BE DESTROYED.
"Please, Lord. Take me. Take my life, Lord. I don't want to live anymore," Lucas sobbed.
Lucas
Bouchard winced when he heard his name, thinking he was imagining things. But then, he heard it again.
Lucas, Darling.
He slowly sat up, his trembling hands covering his face as he looked around in fear.
"Who is it? Who is there?"
Suddenly, a beam of light shined near him and he looked up and realized where he was. He was on their bridge. He closed his eyes as his memory flooded with images of everything that had happened on that very spot, of their walks, their talks, their first kiss. The exceedingly great love. He bowed his head.
"Elizabeth," he said through his tears. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."
A warmth surrounded him, and the howling wind became quiet, so he raised his eyes again. Just to his right and further down the bridge, he saw a feminine figure veiled in white and a halo of white.
"Elizabeth?" he gasped. The figure did not speak but simply stood there and looked at him, and the darkness which encroached around him stayed away.
"Is that you, Elizabeth?" he asked, his heart too amazed at the sight he was beholding. She did not answer. After some time passed, he sat down on the bridge and ran a hand through his drenched hair. "What do you want from me?" he asked.
The figure again did not speak, but instead, he heard as if it were the wind itself, an enveloping voice which simply said LIVE.
Bouchard shuddered as he looked around the tree tops, which were still being pelted with rain, though he himself was not. Finally, he looked toward the sky.
"How, Lord? How can I go on?"
At that moment, a clap of thunder rang out to his right and he turned toward the misty figure who raised her hand and pointed. Lucas turned his head in the direction she was pointing to and looked down and saw where Henry's Bible was laying on the ground, having fallen out of Lucas's saddlebag. He leaned over and picked it up.
When his eyes fell upon the open page, he began to shake again, but then a peace came upon him as he read out loud.
"The Lord is my shepherd; I shall not want. He maketh me to lie down in green pastures: he leadeth me beside the still waters. He restoreth my soul: he leadeth me in the paths of righteousness for his name's sake. Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death…" he stopped and paused, then picked up again. "I will fear no evil: for thou art with me; thy rod and thy staff they comfort me. Thou preparest a table before me in the presence of mine enemies: thou anointest my head with oil; my cup runneth over. Surely, goodness and mercy shall follow me all the days of my life: and I will dwell in the house of the Lord forever."
Lucas bowed his head as the warmth around him permeated him. A peace suddenly flooded his soul and he knew he had a Comforter whose name was God. With a joy he'd never felt, he felt the presence of God surrounding him. In his heart, he willingly surrendered his life to Christ, knowing that He indeed was with him and He would save him from this world of despair. After some time, Lucas looked toward where the figure had been, but she was gone. It was then that he noticed the rain had ceased, and a brilliant light pierced through the treetops. The curse was lifted. Lucas clutched the Bible to his chest in awe. He had felt the presence of God, and he knew he was not rejected and that he would never be alone.