They reached the Old Angel Inn just outside of Fort Clay at a little after midnight. Elizabeth would check in alone – an unaccompanied, unchaperoned female was unusual, certainly, but less problematic than an unmarried couple asking for a room.

"I'll bunk down at the fort. Jimmy knows I'm coming and he'll keep me hidden. When you get up to your room, open the window and light a candle to let me know you're okay. Get some good sleep, because we'll be up all night tomorrow transcribing. I'll be out here at sunset, hopefully with the journal."

Elizabeth held him tightly, memorizing the feel of his wool coat and the sound of his voice. She gazed up at him in the moonlight and smiled. "Well, you promised me an adventure."

Nathan reached down and tucked a lock of hair behind her ear. "Considering you traveled all alone from Hamilton to Hope Valley and had your stagecoach robbed, I assumed this would be a walk in the park."

Elizabeth laughed. "I was younger then. More foolish. Perhaps a bit naive."

"Are you nervous now?" Nathan asked, suddenly concerned.

Shaking her head, Elizabeth said softly, "Not with you. Never with you." She leaned up and touched her lips to his, and again, they found it nearly impossible to let go. Standing together in the dark with the inn in the distance somehow made the depth of the kiss surreal to Elizabeth, as if they were in a different time and place.

"We could tell them we're married," she murmured in his ear.

Shocked, Nathan pulled away and looked at her with his eyebrows raised.

Elizabeth tilted her head in warning. "And you could sleep on the floor," she said firmly.

Nathan laughed softly. "You give me credit for being a stronger man than I am, I'm afraid." He held her tightly. "No, I'll find my way to a warm bunk that feels much safer than that floor in a room with you." Pulling away, he looked deeply into her eyes and she could see the fire there, reflected in the moonlight. "But someday…"

Elizabeth's voice was barely a whisper as she returned his gaze. "Someday…"

Releasing a deep sigh, Nathan kissed her on the forehead and moved back a couple of paces. "They'll stable Sargent behind the inn with fresh hay, and you can ask them to have the stable boy brush the dust of the road off of him. He'll be comfortable out there. Don't forget to open the window and let me know you're alright. Take a walk at dusk tomorrow and we'll figure out how we can get me in the room with you to work. If for some reason I'm not able to get the journal, we'll decide what to do next."

Elizabeth nodded and pulled her riding coat around her, shivering just a bit.

Nathan rubbed her arms gently. "You're cold. Get inside, then. There'll be a warm fire waiting for you, and plenty of quilts. Ask them for some meat and cheese to take upstairs with you. You must be hungry."

"I'm fine," Elizabeth said.

"Sure," Nathan said, smiling. They stood for a moment, again remembering their time outside the Infirmary, and both laughed softly.

Nathan shook his head. "Always fine."

"I love you," Elizabeth said softly.

"And I love you," Nathan replied, reluctantly letting go of her hand.

She took Sargent's reins and began to lead him up to the rail in front of the inn. Suddenly, she turned back. "Nathan!" she said in a loud whisper.

"Yes?"

"Be safe."

Smiling, Nathan said softly, and with infinite love in his voice. "I will."

Jimmy Taylor was a good kid – ranch-raised like Nathan and instilled with a strong work ethic and an almost blind loyalty to the Mounties. He had his heroes, and Nathan was one of them. Jack Thornton had been another.

Andrew Hargreaves was a bully, and bullies always need someone to push around. Jimmy was an easy target because he seldom complained. When Hargreaves said "jump," Jimmy said "how high?" and that suited the Superintendent just fine.

But when Nathan had asked, off the record, if Jimmy knew about the Lost Patrol, a fire began in the young Mountie's belly that wouldn't go out. He knew something – something bad – and until Nathan called him, he'd had no idea how he was going to deal with it.

Jimmy was always alone in the office when the Superintendent was out of town, but he still kept his voice low on the telephone with Nathan. "Yes, I know about the journal that Constable Thornton kept, and I know where it is. It's not right, Nathan. We can't let him get away with it." Jimmy's voice broke, and Nathan told him he would ride up right away and they would figure it out together.

So when Nathan tapped lightly at the window, he found Jimmy alone in the office, supposedly catching up on work. The door opened, Nathan slipped in, and Jimmy lowered the lamplight.

"How're you doing, Jimmy?" Nathan asked kindly. Taylor was no longer the 18-yr-old boy he'd met ten years ago. Not yet thirty, he looked as if he had the weight of the world on his shoulders.

"Oh, you know the Supe. You make a mistake, he never lets you forget it. You do a good job and he tells you it could be better. You can't win." Jimmy looked at Nathan, his eyes full of pain. "But this is beyond what I can ignore, Nathan. This is just terrible. I don't care if they lock me up. I can't let him do it."

Frowning, Nathan asked, "By 'him' you mean Superintendent Hargreaves?"

"Yes," Jimmy said. "I never thought I'd disobey a direct order, but this is too much."

Nathan was confused, and thought there was only one way to get to the bottom of what Jimmy was trying to say. "Let's start with the journal. Can you get it for me?"

Jimmy took a deep breath, and after a long pause, he said. "Which one do you want? The one written by Jack Thornton, or the one Andrew Hargreaves tricked me into forging?"

"He's always asking me to do strange things, so I thought nothing of it when he sat down with me saying that he would dictate a report that needed to be hand written into a bound book." Jimmy put his head in his hands. "So stupid!"

Nathan placed his hand on the young man's shoulder. "Tell me what happened, Jimmy. I'm going to help you."

Jimmy looked up with intense gratitude in his eyes. "I know you will." He took a deep breath and continued.

"It sounded like a report from a young Mountie in the north on a classified mission, so for a time I didn't think anything of it. But when he mentioned the Inuit guides, my mind went right to the Lost Patrol and everything I'd heard about it. It became clear that this report was from the leader of a patrol whose mission was exactly the same, and I started getting suspicious. I asked Hargreaves the name of the Mountie that would go on the report and he told me that it was none of my business."

Nathan spoke patiently, trying to calm Jimmy down. "When did you realize that it was Jack Thornton?"

"I couldn't believe that it was, even when I suspected. This Mountie was a coward and thought only of himself. Jack would never do that." His voice trailed away. "Never…"

Nathan nodded. "We all know that. Go on, Jimmy."

"Finally, there was no escaping it, and I asked him straight out. I knew he had been given some classified materials to put in the safe, and there were whisperings around the Fort that it was about the Lost Patrol. I asked him if this was supposed to be Jack Thornton, and he gave me that smug smile he uses when he's won an argument or used his power against someone, and he said yes."

Jimmy stood up and walked to the window to collect himself. Then he turned around sharply. "I said I would go to Headquarters and tell them everything, and he just looked back at me and said, 'Who do you think they'll believe? An anonymous Mountie with a possible grudge against Jack Thornton, who is idolized? Or a Superintendent with many years of exemplary service? I didn't write it, Jimmy, you did.'"

Nathan ground his teeth and shook his head. "I'm surprised he hasn't sent you to the Northern Territories…"

Jimmy's eyebrows raised up into his hairline. "He's going to. As soon as the inquest is finished, I'm being transferred." He sighed desperately. "You'll never hear from me again."

Nathan stood and walked to the window. He put his hands on Jimmy's shoulders. "I won't let that happen. I swear it to you. One of my best friends, and more importantly, one of Jack's best friends, is a Judge in Hope Valley. He won't let this go. None of us will."

As Nathan waited in the trees for Elizabeth to walk out of the inn, he wondered how he should break this news to her. He didn't want to rush it, but he knew that time was of the essence. Jimmy had told him that Hargreaves had other business to attend to on the way back from Hope Valley, and he was expected first thing in the morning tomorrow. That meant they needed to transcribe not one, but two journals long before daylight.

Of course Nathan had read them both, a couple of times. Jack's would absolutely clear him of any wrongdoing and place the blame squarely where it belonged – on Andrew Hargreaves' shoulders. The one written by Jimmy showed Constable Jack Thornton to be irresponsible, scattered, and unwilling to accept assistance even if it meant his own life and the life of his men. It was damning in all respects and would tie up a posthumous dishonorable discharge for Jack with a neat little bow.

Hargreaves had even bragged about it to Jimmy, after making it clear that they were "partners" in the deception. "He's dead anyway, what difference does it make now? And those things he said about me? He was clearly addled by the cold, you know? None of that was true. Why should I take the fall for a dead man?"

Nathan had reassured Jimmy, but this situation needed to be handled with care. Hargreaves had been right that going to Headquarters would be a mistake. It was Jimmy's handwriting, and Nathan wasn't willing to sacrifice him to clear Jack's legacy. He wanted both to be cleared, with the added benefit of Hargreaves spending the rest of his sorry life in jail or disgrace, or both.

Nathan shivered as he watched Elizabeth approach the copse of trees he was using as cover. He stepped forward and whispered. "Elizabeth. It's me…"

She turned sharply and blessed him with a radiant smile, made even more beautiful by the setting sun. Rushing into the trees, she gripped him tightly. "Oh, I'm so glad you're safe! I didn't sleep much last night for worrying. But I've found a way in where no one will see us. We need to go now while the cook is gathering vegetables."

She took his hand before he could say a word and led him into the basement pantry through the double doors set into the ground. From there it was a stairway down, then up, then a long corridor, and finally to her room, all without seeing a soul.

Once the door was closed and locked, Nathan caught his breath and laughed softly. "You're in the wrong business, Elizabeth. You should have been a spy!"

She looked proudly at him and smiled toward the table, filled with food. "I told Mrs. Martin that I was extra hungry tonight," she said, rolling her eyes a little. She looked like she fears for my waistline."

Nathan laughed and pulled Elizabeth into a hug. "You thought of everything."

"Where's Newton?" Elizabeth asked as she poured out a glass of ale for Nathan.

"I left him at the Livery just outside the fort. The owner is a friend of mine…"

"Of course he is," Elizabeth said with a loving smile. She could think of no one who wasn't a friend of Nathan's.

"...so he knows to be discreet. If anyone asks if I've been here, he will have a convenient lapse of memory." Nathan sat down at the table and tore off a piece of Mrs. Martin's freshly baked bread. He hadn't realized how hungry he was. Jimmy had given him an apple and some cheese from his stores at the office, but he'd eaten nothing else since dinner last night.

Elizabeth stood watching him, but she'd gone silent. Finally she spoke softly. "Nathan. May I see it?"

Nathan nodded and went to his bag. He made sure he was pulling Jack's actual journal out and pushing aside the other. Turning, he held out his hand for Elizabeth to take it. "It's fragile, but surprisingly intact," he said.

Elizabeth held the book in her hands for a moment, and then moved to the chair by the fire. "You've read it?" she asked Nathan, who nodded solemnly.

"I have more to tell you, Elizabeth, but I'm going to let you have a moment with Jack's words before I get into it."

Elizabeth's brow furrowed. "Is it good or bad?" she asked simply.

Nathan thought for a moment. "Bad. But not insurmountable. It can wait."

Nodding, Elizabeth looked down at the journal. She knew that this was probably the last thing Jack saw before he died. She murmured softly, "I've always taught my students to read the whole book and never turn to the ending first…" She sighed. "But I'm going to break that rule."

Elizabeth opened the journal's fragile pages and began fanning them gently from the back of the book. It turned out to be almost completely blank pages, and then finally, an entry. It was definitely Jack's handwriting, though the ink was thin and faded, and his usual strong hand was shaky and floated around the lines as if he had been in dim light. Elizabeth looked at the date at the top of the page. May 12, 1915. Four days after I said goodbye at the train station near Fort Clay. Four days.

For a moment, Elizabeth stared at the fire. Knowing that Jack said goodbye to her right before he rode up to Fort McPherson to leave on a dangerous mission. "I'll see you soon," he said as he kissed her. Soon. Never again.

Nathan had been watching her from across the room. "You okay?" he asked gently, and Elizabeth turned to look at him.

"Why do men always assume women aren't strong enough to know the truth? You, about being at Fort Clay. Jack about not being at Fort Clay. Why do we always find out afterwards?"

Nathan had expected this. Elizabeth had a right to be angry. The Mounties asked a lot of a man, and even more of their women. He took a deep breath and said, "It's not fair. But I suppose we all do the best we can in the moment, balancing our love of family and our duty." He stood and moved over to bend down in front of her chair and hold her hand. "All I can do is promise that I will never again keep something from you when your happiness is at stake. Even if the Mounties tell me I have to. You come first, then my job."

Elizabeth drew his hand up and kissed it tenderly. "Thank you," she said. She nodded to let him know that she was alright, and she bent her head again to the journal.

May 12, 1915

This will be my last entry. The candles are gone and my hand is shivering too much to hold a pen. It will be a relief to go to sleep. Just to sleep and dream of my wife and my home. Perhaps she will feel it if I come to her in a dream. I hope she knows how sorry I am, how much I regret. But I am so glad I wrote that letter telling her to love again. My sweet Elizabeth. Love is really all there is…

And there it stopped. Elizabeth felt a tear slide down her cheek and before she knew it, Nathan was at her side, holding her. She buried her face in his chest and cried, safe in his arms.