AN: I always feel like I am apologising for delays in updating this story, and I should apologise. I have slowed down due to work and other commitments, and that was never my intention. I do know how you feel; I hate it when my favourite story updates are delayed!

For those of you still reading - thank you. I do want to focus on this story while participating in other challenges (like the one for April) and will do my best to post more regular updates.

I don't think this story is finished yet. I see much more for the characters and hope you do too, and stay with me as I tell my version of this story.

I love the interaction/connection with others involved in Nathan Grant Fan Fiction and want to thank everyone involved in Sunday Night Serge. Special thanks to Sherri Thrasher and you readers who suggest fantastic ideas for the direction of my story and, in particular, Colleen and her illness/possible cure - I am listening and working on it!

I would like to thank all of you for reading my stories and, where you can, taking the time to leave a review or constructive feedback.

Thank you, Thank you, Thank you. You are all very much appreciated.

Take care.

Jillian

Nathan walked to the livery, saddled Newton and rode out of the Coal Valley, heading to Lee's Timber Mill. It was a beautiful day for a ride, and he wished Elizabeth were with him. He missed their rides. Since Julie had come to Town and they moved in with Colleen and Allie, their time alone was limited. He didn't mind spending time with their friends and families; he enjoyed their company and loved each of them, but he missed having the chance to really talk to his wife.

He remembered the picnics they used to have while he was teaching her to ride. They would spend the whole day together, resting between lessons and eating fabulous food Abigail had put together for them. Nathan knew it was time to plan something romantic for him and Elizabeth. He would make sure he planned something for this weekend; he could wait until then; it was only a few days away, after all.

As he and Newton rode into the Timber Mill, he saw Lee talking to his new employee, Mike Hickam. Lee had employed Mike to work in the office with him, doing paperwork and running the place. Mike had worked for Ned in the Mercantile, but Lee had seen his potential and stolen him away. Nathan liked Mike; he was intelligent and caring but shy too. Rosemary managed to wrap Mike around her little finger, and he would do anything for her; luckily for him, so would Lee.

Lee Coulter was one of the most easy-going people Nathan had ever met; he rarely got flustered, never lost his cool and was generous with both his time and money. Nathan was hoping for some of that generosity of spirit today when he spoke to him. If he got the response from Lee he wished for, he would then talk to Abigail in her role as Town Mayor.

"Nathan, what brings you by here today? Not official business, I hope?" Lee said with a smile.

Dismounting, Nathan replied, "not quite, but it is Town business."

Lee frowned at his friend, surprised by his words and serious tone. He handed the paperwork he had been holding to Mike and, after giving him instructions, walked to Nathan, where he was securing Newton.

"Let's go inside; this sounds like a discussion for just the two us for now."

Lee sat in the chair behind his desk, inviting Nathan to take the other one. Leaning back in his chair, a teasing smile on his face, he stared at Nathan, waiting for him to start talking.

"You want me to help you build a school for the Town," Lee said when Nathan finished outlining his plan. Shaking his head, he said, "You are volunteering to build it if I donate the timber at a discounted rate?"

"That's right," Nathan said seriously.

"Can you build a school?" Lee asked curiously. As a Mountie, he knew Nathan had received comprehensive training, which included many things, but he didn't think building construction was one of them.

"I can. Growing up, I needed to support my family when...," Nathan explained before pausing, "when we needed extra money. I often helped out building crews and got pretty handy with a hammer and nails."

"Okay, but even if you are as handy as you say, you can't build it alone. You'll need help."

Nathan remained silent, hoping Lee's generosity would extend to more than a discount on timber.

"Fine," Lee said with a chuckle, "you have your discount, and I will lend you some of my men to help you. You also have me, free and clear whenever you need me."

"Thank you, Lee. You don't know what this will mean to the Town," Nathan said, leaping out of his seat and leaning over to shake Lee's hand.

"The Town?" he asked, eyebrows raised.

"And Elizabeth," he conceded with a shrug. "All I have to do is convince Abigail of the same thing."

"Good luck, my friend. Not that you should need luck. It's about time the widows and children of this Town had something like this. I wish I had thought of it."

Nathan tried to contain his nerves as he sat opposite Abigail Stanton in her Mayoral office. He was pleased Abigail had heard him out with such an open mind and hadn't dismissed his idea outright. He was also glad she hadn't been working at the Cafe; he didn't want their conversation overheard by Rosemary and Julie.

"So, do you think the Town Council will be able to find the money to purchase the Timber from Lee Coulter?"

"I don't know, Nathan. There is so much the Town needs, and funds are limited," Abigail said, smiling sympathetically at the young Constable before her. She agreed the Town needed a school, but some didn't consider it essential, given they already had a location for it, even if it wasn't ideal. "It will be easier to convince them to donate the land, especially where you proposed building it." Abigail had liked the suggested parcel of Land. It was close enough to walk to and far enough out of Town for the children to remain focused on lessons.

"The building could be used for something besides a School when the students aren't there," Nathan suggested eagerly. "A Church, a community centre. The Town needs all three things."

"Yes, it does, Nathan." Sighing, Abigail stood and walked to the window, looking out over the main street of Coal Valley. The Town was growing, just not fast enough to afford the funds required for a schoolhouse. "Let me talk to the Town Council; we have a meeting set for Wednesday night. You can have your answer before the week's out."

Abigail and Nathan turned when they heard a knock on the open door to her office.

"Henry? Did we have an appointment?" Abigail asked. Henry Gowan was the last person she expected or wanted to see. She assumed he was still angry and bitter at the outcome of the mining investigation, and she dreaded what he wanted to see her about.

"No, I was hoping to speak to you on ... a personal matter," Henry said, hesitating as he glanced at Nathan.

"I will leave you to it, Abigail. Please, let me know the outcome when you can." Nathan strode over to the desk where he had placed his campaign hat; putting it on his head, he strode toward the door, tipping his head slightly to acknowledge the man standing there.

"Mr Gowan."

"Constable."

Abigail waited for Nathan to leave before inviting Henry into her office.

"What can I help you with, Henry?" she asked politely, hearing the undercurrent of scorn in her voice. Remembering what Henry had done to the men of the Town, and the widows, it was all she could do to sit opposite him; politeness was the best she could do.

"I wanted to collect personal items from the rooms upstairs; some items were too large for me to move when I stayed at the Saloon. I have secured a residence out of Town and can take them with me." Henry hated asking Abigail for access to his things; however, the mining company had only leased the rooms in the Mayoral building, and he no longer had access.

"Of course, Henry. I will arrange to open the rooms for you if you tell me when you want to move your things." Abigail stopped short of telling him she would escort him while he gathered his things. She didn't have the time to supervise him or the desire to spend any longer with him than necessary.

Henry advised her of when he was hoping to secure items. He was moving to a cabin in the woods outside of Town, nothing like his former accommodations upstairs, but it was his and would help him avoid the Townspeople. He had arranged for some of the men staying in the Saloon to assist him in transporting his furniture and other items and needed to do it before they continued their travels.

If asked, Henry would be hard-pressed to explain why he stayed in Coal Valley. He knew no one wanted him there, but it had been his home for several years and was the only place that had ever felt like home. There was nowhere else to go and no one to go to. Coal Valley was where he would stay. He knew he owed the Town more than the compensation the Coal Mine had paid, but he didn't know where to start.

Henry knew it would take a long time to prove to the people of Coal Valley he was genuinely remorseful about the accident and the loss of the men and boys of the Town. His word would not be enough after all that had happened, all that he had done. He didn't even know where to begin to explain why he had done what he had. The Townspeople and those who had others they cared about wouldn't understand that his job was all he had. All he had ever had.

For now, he didn't need to find work; he had earned a good salary, had been paid well to ensure the mine was profitable, and produced for the mining company. He had been paid a large bonus each time he met the annual targets, pushing the men to satisfy them, even as they increased each year until they were impossible to achieve safely.

After leaving the Mayoral offices, Henry returned to the Saloon, slipping quietly inside the building. As he walked up the stairs as unobtrusively as possible, he inadvertently made eye contact with the young teacher. He hadn't wanted to draw attention to himself or interrupt Miss Thatcher during her lessons for the children. As he looked at Elizabeth Thatcher, she kept her expression neutral. Miss Thatcher had arrived in Town after the mining accident but had intimate knowledge of how it impacted the children in her class. She listened to their stories, heard their current struggles and dried their tears when they spoke of the fathers and brothers they had lost.

He knew she heard the stories because he heard them too. He had paused upstairs many mornings during Miss Thatcher's lessons. He remained out of sight, listening to the children talk, telling her how their lives and their families had changed. How much their fathers were missed. His stomach churned, and his cheeks burned with shame as he eavesdropped on the town's youngest members. He knew it was wrong to listen to their conversations, but he couldn't stop himself.

Locking himself in his room upstairs, he didn't wait around to listen for any comments or stories. He didn't need to; he had heard enough. Instead, he thought about Abigail. She had been kinder than he deserved, and he knew it had taken an effort on her behalf. Even the Constable had acknowledged him when most of the Townspeople wouldn't. He hadn't been friendly, but he had been professional.

He thought about Constable Grant. He hadn't liked him when he arrived in Coal Valley as he hated the thought of the law coming to his Town and usurping his 'unofficial' authority. It hadn't been personal. He also hadn't expected him to stay, assuming he would take one look at the small Town and hightail it out of there, seeking adventure elsewhere. He hadn't factored in the attraction of the beautiful young schoolteacher.

Henry narrowed his eyes, remembering the conversation he had overheard between the Constable and Abigail Stanton. No, he corrected himself, the conversation between the Constable and the Mayor. Henry sat up on the bed, an idea springing to mind. There was no way the Town council could afford to build a School or a Church. Not without help and money. Help they could get from Leeland Coulter and the volunteers they rounded up, but the money; would be much harder to find.

"Ms Thatcher?" Ned called out as she entered the Mercantile. "What good timing. The post came in, and I have several letters for you and a package for Nathan. Will you be seeing him later? I could give it to you to give to him."

"It's Julie, please. As a matter of fact, I am on my way there now. I just wanted to post some letters and pick up a treat for Allie," Julie explained. "I would be more than happy to take it to him.

Ned handed the parcel to Julie, and she glanced down at the address label. "Oh, this looks like it is from Nathan's mother!" she exclaimed. "We were only talking about her last night and how much they all missed her." Julie's face lit up with joy, and her smile was wide, "He will be so excited."

Ned smiled back at the young woman, a smile spreading across his face. It was hard to remain unaffected by Julie Thatcher and her enthusiasm. Her bright smile and laughing eyes were contagious. Ned remembered her arrival when she had left a very different impression on those who met her.

Julie had been in Hope Valley for almost four weeks and quickly became a favourite in Town. Julie was a constant at her sister's house and spent her days flitting between Abigail's Cafe, where she offered menu suggestions, and the schoolhouse, where she taught art. Julie also visited Faith in the Infirmary, where she...well, Ned didn't know what she did there, but she visited almost every day.

"How will you get all this to Elizabeth and Nathan's home?" Ned asked as he held the door open for Julie, who struggled to carry all her parcels and gifts.

Before Julie could answer him, he saw Rosemary pull up out the front of the Mercantile, tooting the horn of Lee's car.

"Perfect timing, Rosemary," Julie called as she hurried to the car and began unloading her shopping, saying goodbye to Ned.

Ned waved to the women and returned to his store; as he walked inside, he couldn't help but shake his head. He wondered how Nathan, their taciturn Mountie managed to cope with Julie and Rosemary together; both women could definitely talk, Ned thought with a grin.

Elizabeth greeted her sister and Rosemary when they arrived at the house. She had walked home alone earlier when school finished, wanting to get home and start the evening meal so Colleen didn't have to. Colleen didn't mind cooking, but Elizabeth wanted to do her share and improve her skills. She grimaced when she thought about some of the meals she had served to Nathan and the others. Her food was often barely edible, and she could see everyone struggling to eat it.

Elizabeth was grateful people had been kind about her cooking efforts and given her the time to learn. She had gotten better; she knew it. She hardly burned the food now, and there was much less left on the plates at the end of the meals she cooked. Nathan had asked for seconds of her Shepherd's pie last week, and she had almost danced for joy in the Kitchen.

Julie approached Elizabeth, who stood next to Colleen in the Kitchen, handing her the parcel for Nathan.

"I collected this from the Mercantile; it's for Nathan!" she exclaimed. "I think it's from your mother, Colleen."

Colleen leaned forward, looking at the parcel over Elizabeth's shoulder so she could read the address.

"It is that's her writing." Colleen smiled at the sight of her mother's swirling script, "I bet it is his birthday present," she mused.

Elizabeth gasped, "it's Nathan's birthday! When? Have I missed it? Why didn't he say anything?" The questions tumbled from her mouth, her words tripping over each other. Elizabeth turned to stare at Julie, her eyes wide. She couldn't hide her dismay that she may have missed her husband's birthday. Birthdays were always a big deal in the Thatcher home, celebrated with a huge dinner party, cakes and presents.

"It is on Saturday; you haven't missed it," Colleen assured her, laughing. "It isn't a big deal, Mother won't have bought him anything expensive, and he won't expect anything from you, Elizabeth."

"Why not! It's his birthday." Julie exclaimed before her sister could speak.

"We didn't grow up with much money for birthdays," Colleen said matter-of-factly. She shrugged and continued, "we always had a cake and received hand-made clothing or other essential items as a gift.

Elizabeth felt embarrassed as she thought of her lavish celebrations, with many extravagant gifts, unnecessary clothing and shoes, and hair adornments. Looking at Julie, she could see her sister's cheeks were flushed and knew she remembered similar parties held for her.

"Well, that changes now," Rosemary announced dramatically. "This year, we will celebrate Nathan's birthday with dinner and presents. Yours and Allie's too." Rosemary looked horrified before asking, "We haven't missed yours, have we, Colleen? Have we missed anyone's?" she said as she looked at each of them in turn.

Elizabeth and Julie shook their heads; there were months before their birthdays. Colleen assured her it was several months before her birthday, and Allie's was in two months.

"I need to check with Lee," Rosemary said emphatically. "How can we get married when I don't know his birthday?" Looking at Elizabeth, some of her passion left her, and she apologised. "Your circumstances were different," she allowed.

Elizabeth shook her head; she felt terrible that she didn't even know her husband's birthday. Rosemary was right; they had to do something special. She would plan a surprise celebration for him, maybe at the Cafe. Abigail would happily make the cake and prepare a special meal for them all. Nathan's first birthday with her was not a night to subject everyone to her food. She felt a moment's doubt, wondering if Nathan would want a large celebration, but she ignored it. Of course, he would like to celebrate his birthday with everyone.

As Nathan prepared to head home for the evening, there was a knock on the door of the Mountie office. Looking up, he was surprised to see Henry Gowan standing in the doorway, hat in hand.

Nathan stood, "Mr Gowan. Is there something I can help you with?" Nathan was curious about the reason for this visit; Henry Gowan had yet to seek him out for anything after realising he would get no support from Nathan concerning the mining investigation. Henry had chosen to ignore Nathan when he aligned himself with Bill Avery and the widows.

"I have a proposition for you," he said as he walked inside, closing the door behind him. Henry saw the Constable stiffen and realised his choice of words had been poor. "Let me clarify. I think there is something I can help you with." Seeing the uncertainty on the Constable's face, he clarified, "the idea you shared with Abigail today."

"The schoolhouse?"

"Yes," Henry replied as he took the chair opposite Nathan. "You need money, and that is something I have. In abundance."

"What do I have, you want?" Nathan asked, unable to hide his suspicion from Henry.

"A way to make amends," Henry said.

"I don't believe you," Nathan replied. At no stage had Henry Gowan ever shown anyone he wanted to make reparation for the mining tragedy. "Why now, and why a school?"

"I live at the Saloon. I hear the children talking," he said, his voice strained. Henry dropped his eyes to where his hands lay in his lap, twisting the brim of his hat. "I hear their pain when they talk about their lives and this Town. The pain I caused them." Clearing his throat, Henry looked up, not trying to hide the pain in his eyes this time, "I hear your wife comforting them. They deserved better."

Nathan wanted to believe him and accept his offer, but he needed to consider it and examine the proposal from all angles to see if there was a catch.

"I'm going to need some time to think about it. I don't know if the Town Council will grant us the Land to build on." Nathan responded.

"Fair enough. My offer isn't going anywhere. You get back to me when you have thought it over. I don't intend to say anything to anyone about this, but I understand if you need to talk to Leeland Coulter. I only ask you two to keep my offer between us." Henry finished his statement and stood, "I'm moving out of the Saloon tomorrow, but I'll be around. Ned knows where to find me."

Nathan sat staring at Henry's back as he walked out of the Mountie office. He was stunned by Henry's words and his offer. He wanted it to be true; the Town needed it to be true, but could Henry be trusted?