Elizabeth had woken early, too excited to sleep. She was on the early train, a train taking her into an unknown future, one she couldn't wait to start. Leaping out of bed, she glanced around her bedroom, the room she had grown up in, knowing that if she did sleep in it again, it would be as a guest; this would no longer be home. She was sad she wouldn't have family close by, but this was something she needed to do; it was time she forged her own path.

She dressed quickly, flying through her morning routine, the butterflies in her stomach filling her with nervous energy. She would admit if only to herself, that she did have concerns about Coal Valley and whether she would be up to the challenge. Elizabeth knew her skills in homemaking were lacking, never having cooked or cleaned for herself; she was used to Hamilton living, indoor plumbing and servants. Yes, she was confident of her abilities to teach the children; the living alone part had her a little worried.

Grace Thatcher was walking toward the dining room for breakfast when she heard running feet on the stairs. She frowned as she saw her middle daughter running down the staircase. "Elizabeth Thatcher, what do you think you are doing? Walk down the stairs like a lady."

"Oh, Mother, I am sorry, I am just so excited about today." she cried out, laughing as she kissed her mother on the cheek. "Can you believe I start my journey to Coal Valley and a whole new life today?"

Grace continued to frown at her daughter, "that's no reason to forget how to behave properly, and besides, do you need to be quite so enthusiastic about moving away? You will give me a complex."

Elizabeth hugged her Mother briefly, "I am sorry, Mother, it isn't that I want to get away from you and the family. I am excited to begin my journey on the path I always imagined for myself, teaching, and maybe writing too if I have the time." Looping her arm through her mothers, she walked into the dining room.

Elizabeth tried not to hurry through her meal; she had already received a reproaching look from her Mother over her table manners. "Father," she asked between mouthfuls, "what time did you order the carriage? I want to make sure we have plenty of time."

"It will be here shortly, Elizabeth, but you have time to eat like a lady," he pursed his lips in reprimand. "I have ensured you will be at the train station for first-class boarding; you will be secure in your carriage before you are overwhelmed with those travelling in...other carriages."

"Why bother Father?" Julie asked, "soon, Elizabeth will be among people who travel in 'other carriages'. I don't think Coal Valley will have much in the way of first-class." Julie knew very well her Father meant those less fortunate, travelling in economy, who he didn't consider to be of their class.

"Julie!" Elizabeth cried, suddenly angry with her younger sister, "that's a terrible thing to say about people; if I wanted to surround myself with 'high-class society', I would stay here in Hamilton and teach rich young snobby girls like yourself." Swallowing, trying to control her anger at Julie's immaturity, she continued, "I want to make a difference in people's lives, to open their minds, not be something they do on the way to finding a husband." Throwing her napkin down on the table, she excused herself to finish her packing, still fuming as she left the dining room. Out of spite, she reached the staircase and ran loudly up the stairs, hoping they heard her.


Nathan sat next to Gabe in the academy's dining hall; noise surrounded them as their fellow graduates finished breakfast. Nathan realised he would miss this, the feeling of brotherhood, of being surrounded by like-minded people, all working toward the same goal. He hoped his training would be enough to meet the needs of the people in Coal Valley, especially given the recent mine tragedy. Learning his posting was in a town full of widows had awakened his protective side. He had spent most of his life watching out for and guarding the women in his life and knew he would do the same for the Coal Valley widows if they let him. He also wondered about the type of men who remained in the town and whether they were inclined to be as protective of the women as they deserved, and he hoped they would be.

Gabe watched his friend, always quiet, but particularly so this morning. Since joining him, Nathan had hardly said two words: "Is it just nerves that have you ignoring your food?" he asked, "it's unlike you not to inhale everything on your plate within seconds."

Nathan smiled at his friend's teasing comment, "I guess so, Gabe." Wiping his mouth on the napkin, he said, "I finally realised this is it; it all just started to feel real; we are going to be responsible for enforcing law and order and protecting a whole town full of people. The people in Coal Valley have already been through enough; what if I let them down." Nathan had explained to Gabe about the mining tragedy which had occurred.

"The fact you're worried about it means you won't, you're aware of your obligations to the town, and you will fulfil them." Smiling at his friend, he said, "I don't want to get all sappy, but Nathan, you are a man full of integrity and honour; you genuinely care about people and doing the right thing." Growing serious, "Maintiens le Droit, 'uphold the right', he said, quoting the Mountie motto, "is how you live your life every day. You are the perfect choice to go to Coal Valley.

Nathan smiled gratefully at his friend, even though he blushed at his praise. He hoped Gabe was right, and he didn't let the people of Coal Valley down. Not sure he could express his gratitude at his friend's words, he chose instead to clap him on the shoulder, knowing he would understand the feelings behind the gesture. Standing, he said, "We better get going; we need to get the horses settled on the train; it's going to be a long trip."

As he walked away, he paused and turned back to Gabe, who was about to leave the table. 'Grab some of those bread rolls, would you? I'm still hungry," laughing as Gabe rolled his eyes.

As Nathan and Gabe walked out of the Mountie office, Nathan heard his name being called and turned to see one of the staff from the office running toward him. "Grant," he said puffing, "glad I caught you." Holding out a letter, he said, "when I was getting organised for the new recruits, I found this letter for you. Sorry, it must have been misplaced; better late than never right!" Handing Nathan the letter, he hurried back inside. Frowning, Nathan looked at the envelope; not recognising the handwriting and noting it didn't look official, he tucked it away to look at later.


Elizabeth had begged her family for a quick goodbye, telling them she didn't want them waiting for her train to depart, suggesting once they saw her safely aboard the train, they were free to leave. Her parents didn't argue with her as she knew they wouldn't; Grace Thatcher wouldn't be comfortable mingling with the other people at the Station for long.

Securing a porter to help with her bags, her Father escorted her into the first-class compartment, which the Conductor advised her she would have all to herself. Elizabeth was a little disappointed, it was a long trip, and some companionship might have alleviated the boredom and helped pass the time. However, she conceded, the wrong company might make it seem longer. Or, she thought, worse than the poor company, her father may have ignored her request and sent a Mountie along to watch over her.

As she leaned out the window, watching her family leaving, she could see other passengers arriving. A flash of red caught her eye, and she quickly glanced toward it, checking to see who or what it was. She had found herself doing that a lot; she had been doing it since meeting Nathan Grant. Wishful thinking, born out of her desire to see him again, every flash of red reminded her of him, a sliver of hope lighting in her chest it might be him. The flash of red that had caught her eye turned out to be a woman, dressed in red, talking to the Conductor.

The woman dropped her head, hands covering her face, as she began to cry, her shoulders shaking in distress. Elizabeth watched the woman lift her head and saw she was young, a similar age to her own, and she was lovely or would be if her face was not blotchy with tears. Elizabeth wondered what had caused her to be so upset; she was clearly in trouble. A pile of luggage surrounded her, so her distress must be about her travel. Elizabeth frowned as she saw the Conductor say something to the young woman before walking away and getting back on the train.

Impulsively Elizabeth stood and walked to the door of her compartment, looking down the train corridor, calling to the Conductor standing at the end, "Excuse me, sir," she said, motioning him to her. "Can you tell me about the young woman there?" she said as she moved into the carriage and pointed out the window, "what has happened?"

The Conductor looked out and explained to Elizabeth, "she was expecting a ticket to be here waiting for her, but there wasn't one." While he felt sympathy for the young lady, there was nothing he could do for her; he couldn't let her on the train.

"Where is she heading?" Elizabeth asked, watching as the blonde girl dried her tears and stared at her baggage. Comparing her luggage with the woman's, she said, "It looks as though she has all her possessions with her; she must have been planning to go somewhere for a long time, if not permanently."

The Conductor nodded. "She said she was planning on moving to Benson Hills," he confided, his kindly face wrinkling in concern, "I wonder if it may have been a romance gone bad."

Elizabeth shook her head, sympathetic to the young lady's plight, "what if I were to buy a ticket for her?" she asked him.

"The train is full, Ms Thatcher; there are no more economy seats available until the next train in three days." Smiling at her kindness, he said, "It's a nice thought, but she will still have nowhere to go until then."

Elizabeth said, "I shall buy a first-class ticket for her, and she can share my compartment. Can you please make the necessary arrangements?"

The Conductor hesitated, he knew the Thatcher family's reputation in Hamilton, and he wasn't sure how Mr thatcher would feel about this, "Maybe I should check with..."

"Do not say, my Father. It is my money, decision, and compartment." Standing firm, she said haughtily, "please make the ticket purchase, organise the lady's luggage and direct her to me." Elizabeth usually didn't use the Thatcher name, but she did now.

Rosemary LeVeaux felt hopeless; the bags she sat on contained everything she owned, including new items she had purchased for her upcoming move to Benson Hills. She had arrived at the train station full of enthusiasm and hope for what lay ahead for her and her new job with Mr Lucas Bouchard. She would be the headline act in his new establishment, where she would entertain his patrons each night as they dined.

When she tried to collect her ticket, she found out there wasn't one. Even if she could have afforded to purchase one herself, the Conductor explained the train was full, with the next one not due for three days.

Rosemary had no ticket, no accommodation in Hamilton and no money to pay for either. The money she had paid in advance for Mr Bouchard to find her suitable accommodation and purchase her 'stage clothes' was also gone. She was starting to realise the job with Lucas Bouchard had never existed; it appears she had fallen for the oldest trick in the book and given her money to a conman.

Her options were non-existent, and she was overwhelmed with thinking of a solution. Finally giving in to her despair, she let the tears fall, dropping her head in her hands. She knew she couldn't stay there all day; she would work something out; she was Rosemary LeVeaux, after all. Lifting her head as she heard feet approaching, she recognised the Conductor, probably coming to tell her to move on.

As Rosemary listened to his words, she struggled to comprehend what he said. Someone had paid for a first-class ticket and was prepared to share their compartment with her. Her. Fresh tears welled in her eyes, but these were happy tears, tears of relief, and she couldn't contain her joy, wrapping the man in a bear hug.

Elizabeth watched the Conductor and the young woman, smiling at her antics when she found out the news. She expected her trip to Benson Hill would be much more interesting now.

Rosemary collected herself as she stood on the train; she was unsure about her mysterious benefactor and what to expect. Obviously, Elizabeth Thatcher was a wealthy young woman, the name Thatcher didn't mean anything to her, not being from Hamilton, but the Conductor had seemed impressed. While she was grateful, she didn't want to spend the whole trip pandering to some princess and wondered if there was some way she could accept the ticket and manage to escape her new companion if needed.

As the Conductor showed her to the compartment, she breathed in and out, preparing herself to meet local royalty. She knew her clothes and appearance were more than adequate; she had spent a fortune on her travelling clothes; unfortunately, there wasn't anything she could do with her tear-stained face until she could find a bathroom. 'Oh well, here goes nothing,' she thought.

Elizabeth stood as the door opened, smoothing her skirt as the Conductor ushered in her new travelling companion. Elizabeth looked over the woman discreetly; up close, she noted she was beautiful, her radiance not dulled by the tears she had shed.

"Ms Thatcher", she cried excitedly, "it is a pleasure to meet you; thank you so much for your generosity," she finished as she threw her arms out and curtsied. "Rosemary LeVeaux," standing, she asked, "perhaps you have heard of me?"

Elizabeth's eyes widened, and having never heard of Rosemary, she decided to ignore the question. "Ms LeVeaux, my name is Elizabeth Thatcher; very pleased to meet you." Gesturing to the compartment, she said, "Come in and get comfortable, and please call me Elizabeth."

"Thank you, Elizabeth; call me Rosemary," she said generously as she walked inside and sat down with a flourish.

Elizabeth nodded at the Conductor, and he exited, leaving the two women alone. Elizabeth said, "can you tell me about yourself, Rosemary?" She hoped to hear today's story and what happened without appearing nosy.

"Well," she leaned forward and started talking in a whisper. "A Mr Lucas Bouchard engaged me to be the headliner at his new restaurant in Benson Hills; he convinced me to leave my old job, house, and friends to travel across the country to join his business venture. Then he left me high and dry. No ticket, no money, no hope." Rosemary delivered her words dramatically, but Elizabeth could see the pain behind her eyes despite her flamboyance.

After exclaiming over Rosemary's story, Elizabeth sat back in her seat and laughed at Rosemary as the train pulled out of the Station. Rosemary waved to everyone; she didn't discriminate and delighted in their responses. Rosemary's enthusiasm was infectious, and by the time they left Hamilton, Elizabeth was happy she had offered to pay for her ticket and wanted to know more of Miss Leveaux.

Nathan and Gabe watched as the train left the Station. Nathan wondered how long it would be until he returned to Hamilton; Gabe had done one final check on the horses before departure and was satisfied they were safe, although Newton was agitated. As the train began its journey to Benson Hills, Nathan let the rhythmic sound of the wheels on the rails relax him; as he watched the scenery pass by, he remembered the letter he had been given.

Nathan looked over at Gabe, who sat with his eyes closed and decided now was a good time to read it. Holding the envelope in his hand, he studied it, noting the high-quality paper addressed to him in handwriting he didn't recognise. Flipping it over, he read the return name and address on the back and felt his heart skip a beat as his stomach swirled with butterflies. Elizabeth Thatcher. She had written to him; he couldn't believe it. He had thought of her so often since the day they met. He had picked up a pen to write too many times to count, but something always stopped him. He told himself he didn't write because he knew he was leaving, but that wasn't true. Nathan wasn't intimidated by her name, but he couldn't imagine a Thatcher being satisfied with spending time with someone like him. Nathan wanted to leave the city for small, remote towns with no indoor plumbing or entertainment, where he could do the most good, not the most shopping. He imagined Elizabeth Thatcher seeking out a very different lifestyle.

Opening the letter carefully, he unfolded the expensive notepaper and read the short note:

Dear Constable Grant (Nathan)

I am writing to express my thanks and gratitude for your care of me following the incident in the Park last week. I hope I thanked you sufficiently at the time; however, things were happening so quickly I can't be sure.

Thank you for seeing me home safely; while I may have indicated I didn't need any help, I will admit (now) it was most welcome. I have no lingering effects from my injury, other than a small bump on my head, and was back at Teachers College the next day.

While I hope my note conveys my appreciation, I would like to do so in person and wonder if you would be available for lunch or afternoon tea. I could host you at my Aunt's house or a restaurant in town if you prefer.

I am leaving shortly to take up my first teaching post, and I am unsure when I will return to Hamilton, so I hope to hear from you at your earliest convenience to make arrangements.

Thank you again

Ms Thatcher (Elizabeth)

Nathan closed his eyes; he couldn't believe his luck or bad luck in this case. What would he have responded, he asked himself? Would he have gone? Who was he kidding? Of course, he would have said yes. While he hadn't reached out to her, he knew he wouldn't have resisted her offer, jumping at the invitation to see the dark-haired beauty again, even if there was no future for them.

While there was nothing he could do about it now, he could think about what could have been. He closed his eyes and settled back into his seat, allowing thoughts of the beautiful Elizabeth Thatcher to fill his daydreams, wondering if it was too late to respond.