Chapter 14: Inconsequential Questions

"Ladies first," Nathan offered with a playful grin, gesturing for Elizabeth to begin their homework conversation. "Let's start off with the 'inconsequential' category."

"Okay, first question out of the gate," Elizabeth chuckled, fully aware she was now in the hot seat. Her heart rate quickened as nerves took hold—no matter how silly the question seemed, it had been on the minds of every Hope Valley resident at some point.

"Going back a few years, I just have to know…what made you decide to grow a mustache? You didn't even keep it for long."

Nathan looked surprised, stroking the bare skin above his upper lip as if missing the 'stache, "What? You didn't like it?" he asked, looking wounded by her verbal attack on his physique.

Elizabeth's smile faded and her eyes widened. He had to be joking, she thought. But upon closer inspection, Nathan did appear serious.

"Well…" she backpedaled, her mind racing to find a kind yet truthful response. Elizabeth opened her mouth and then closed it several times, each attempt at an explanation falling short. But ultimately… wasn't honesty the best path? She certainly didn't want to encourage Nathan to ever repeat that whiskered catastrophe. A sudden realization struck her that it was the only look she didn't love of Nathan's.

Finally settling on an honest approach, Elizabeth squeaked out a hesitant, apologetic, "No?" Her lips formed a perfect circle, frozen in place, before they slowly pressed together, the tension in her face betraying her unease as she awaited Nathan's response.

He let the awkward silence stretch on, his expression barely concealing his amusement, until he couldn't hold back his laughter any longer.

"Nathan Grant!" Elizabeth scolded, bopping him on his bare shoulder.

"I'm sorry, 'Lizbeth," he chuckled. "I couldn't resist."

"You really had me fooled there for a second, Constable!" she responded, her tone a mix of affection and mild exasperation. "Rosemary would be proud of your acting skills," she added, with an admiring twinkle in her eyes.

Clearly pleased with himself, Nathan still wore an impish grin. "Good to know I have a career in theater to fall back on."

As he finally laid his teasing to rest, Nathan reached for Elizabeth's hand, his fingers gently brushing over hers before curling around it in a comforting hold. Shifting back to the topic of his facial hair, he nodded. "No, I know. It's a fair question you raised. I'm well aware my mustache became the talk of the town."

Rather matter-of-factly, Nathan explained, "It wasn't ever a deliberate choice, really." He offered up a weak smile as he stepped cautiously into the past. "If I'm honest, once you told me there wasn't a future for us, Bill saw how distraught I was. I know you were busy with…other things."

Nathan tilted his head and Elizabeth responded with a single nod, suggesting they both understood the inference. Nathan was grateful since he was simply unwilling to mention her former fiancée's name while holding her in the hot springs. Even he had his limits.

"So I went away for a few days," Nathan continued on, "just to Bill's cabin while Allie went to her grandparents. I'm afraid I wasn't the best father at the time."

Elizabeth gave Nathan her disapproving teacher glare, as if he weren't telling the truth.

"It's true," he shrugged, fully transparent, though he quickly slipped back into his earlier teasing tone. "I was in the throes of heartbreak, 'Lizabeth," Nathan said with a dramatic Rosemary-like flourish, finally able to add a little humor to their past.

His levity faded, however, the moment he spoke of his daughter, remembering the reality of her pain.

"So, Allie was in a better place for the time being," he confirmed, "and I was on my own, where shaving was the last thing on my mind."

Elizabeth guessed that made sense, but one burning question still hounded her. So she pressed Nathan by asking, "Why the…?" What would she even call that thing, she wondered, as she traced a small little circle beneath his bottom lip to reference the patch. She tried to suppress a giggle at the memory. "Why not a beard?" she suggested, willing to reveal the obvious preference she, and every other woman in town, secretly held.

"'Lizabeth," Nathan said, his gaze sharp and knowing, amplified by both eyebrows raised. He seemed content to leave it there, silently challenging her to figure the rest out on her own.

For a few moments, Elizabeth thought of Nathan at the cabin, considering what he might look like through the process of hair growth. This wasn't hard to do since he wore a pretty dark five o'clock shadow the nights he showed up on her porch. In her mind, she watched a few days' growth fill in on Nathan's face.

With a twinge of heartache for Nathan, she recalled her own longing for change after her breakup with Lucas. In fact, she admitted to herself, she did something dramatic with her own hair, too, as if to mark a new beginning.

"Ah, of course," she said, the realization dawning on her. "You hadn't shaved for days…" she noted. "So, I'm guessing, by that point, you thought, 'why not give facial hair a try?'"

Nathan nodded, assuring Elizabeth she was headed in the right direction. Still, something didn't make sense. Even as a woman, she knew patches didn't just appear. So, why go through the effort to trim a beard into such an unusual pattern? And then she lightly shook her head, the evidence as plain as day.

Now, with full understanding, she made her final assumption—one she'd never even considered before. "It had to be something different, though, am I right?" she asked, searching his eyes. "Because heaven forbid, you show back up in town with a mustache and beard as if trying to look like Lucas!"

"Exactly," is all Nathan said, holding back a smile.

Something about the image of Nathan strolling into town, wearing a Lucas-like look, as if trying to win Elizabeth's heart through mimicry, led them to both burst out laughing. The effect was even more dramatic considering the echo from the surrounding rock walls.

It felt good to laugh, though—to finally leave behind the shadows that had lingered for far too long. As the notes of their laughter faded, so, too, did their heartache from the past.

"So you shaved away the Lucas look and left the little patch, for your own signature look?" she asked with a teasing twinkle in her eye, "your 'I'm not going to let anyone get me down' look."

Elizabeth's smile conveyed more than just amusement; it reflected the deep admiration she held for Nathan's courage, which he displayed in countless ways, apparently even in the form of facial hair.

Still, knowing his choice wasn't well supported, Nathan defended himself with an air of importance, "Let's just say I was ahead of my time," he boasted.

"Is that so, Constable?" Elizabeth asked.

Nathan's expression softened as her thumb traced the place where his mustache had once stood, the gentle touch causing his heart to skip a beat. He paused for a moment, allowing the warmth of her attention to settle before responding with a lopsided grin.

"Well, maybe ahead of my time, or just...marching to the beat of my own drum," he added, his voice taking on a lighter tone as he leaned into her touch.

"I think that's what we're doing now," Elizabeth said in a sultry voice, referring to their remote location, immersed in the steamy hot springs. This isn't where one would expect to find a teacher and a Mountie. But, beyond the reach of peeking eyes and interruptions, neither cared that this chosen activity might seem inappropriate for a courting couple.

Willing to defy certain norms, Elizabeth moved closer to Nathan before settling across his lap. wrapping her arms around his neck, one at a time. Her eyes fell to his lips, and inevitably his gaze followed, resting on the pink curves of her smirk. As if drawn together by a steady magnetic pull, their mouths met with gentle urgency, holding each other in slow, soft kisses that lingered in quiet affection. They savored every act of intimacy, knowing how impossible these moments were around town.

After a series of tender kisses, Elizabeth's thumb lowered from Nathan's cheek to the crest of his chin. "Why did this new look of yours not last?" she asked, reverting back to the mustache and its accompanying patch.

"Well, it turns out my favorite girl didn't like it."

Elizabeth gave him a warm smile, even while aware that he wasn't referring to her.

But, Nathan's hands lightly stroked along her arms to reassure her of her place now. "Once Allie returned home," he explained, "she told me point blank I needed to get rid of it." With a touch of shyness, he lowered his eyes and added, "She said it hid my smile."

"Well, in that case," Elizabeth began, her lips curving at the corners in mischief, "I would like to thank her, your fellow Mounties would like to thank her, the women of hope valley thank her. I know Scout thanks her."

Nathan's smile grew wider as he remembered this very conversation about Edwin and the bunny costume. Still, one of her choices made little sense. "Scout?" he asked. "What does he care what I look like?"

Elizabeth shot back a skeptical look of her own, finding it hard to believe that a man of Nathan's intelligence hadn't considered the path of a dog's long lick. "Would you want your tongue to brush across a thicket of coarse hair?

"I see your point." Nathan nuzzled his nose and face against Elizabeth's, as if brushing the hair he used to have across her own face, causing her to giggle. "Let's just call it a mid-life crisis and leave it at that," he murmured, remaining close.

"Nathan, you were 33," she reminded him, her eyes full of amusement.

"Once again," he countered. "Ahead of my time."

Elizabeth shook her head at his humor, all the while knowing that when it came to Nathan Grant, time didn't matter—he was timeless. They were timeless, connected by a love as constant and reliable as the stars in the night sky. No matter the storms life threw their way, his devotion never wavered.

Elizabeth kissed him lightly before announcing, "Okay your turn," ready to hear what he might ask.

Of Nathan's two questions, he picked the more fitting one since it related to his wearing an almost Lucas-like look.

Interested as to where Elizabeth might take her response, Nathan hinted at nothing. Wearing a blank expression, he asked simply, but slowly, "Coffee or tea?" He emphasized each word equally so as not to appear judgmental of her choice based on his own personal preference.

Ever the teacher, Elizabeth dove into analyzing the question first, before giving an answer. Thinking of Nathan's homework assignment—the contrasting inconsequential and consequential questions—she wondered why with only two inconsequential questions, he'd picked something so bland and trivial.

"I don't know, Nathan. Does my choice of beverage even qualify as inconsequential?" Elizabeth asked flippantly with a playful smile.

"Yes, and then some," Nathan asserted, clearly unwilling to budge. With a spark of mischief brightening his blue eyes, he couldn't help revealing more. "I'd even say my question lands squarely in the realm of consequential…perhaps even eternal." Applying his hard-earned Mountie skills, Nathan kept his jaw firmly set, managing to remain serious.

In fact, this man, who'd found himself on the most distant side of a love triangle one too many times, stood his ground on the importance of this telling question as if his life depended on it. In a similar manner, months back, he'd stood firmly in front of the new RCMP sign. When Bill questioned whether headquarters would be changing the uniforms as well, Nathan made his position clear with his unwavering response: "Over my dead body." So, "Coffee or tea?" Yes, this question mattered.

Elizabeth might've been fooled by Nathan's stern demeanor, but as long as his eyes were open, she'd learned to read almost every expression of his.

"Well," she began, not immediately revealing that she'd caught on to his sneaky loaded question. "I used to dabble in tea from time to time," she openly admitted.

Nathan's expression instantly turned sour at the mention of the "other" drink.

"But," she offered as a bread crumb while coming around, both in spoken word and gesture, "It's only coffee for me now," she promised, whispering her confession as she brushed a hand through his hair and then unexpectedly ruffled it into a mess.

Nathan guessed by the way Elizabeth's voice lowered, and her eyes shone that she'd cracked his code and was no longer talking about beverages. Still, for fun, he played along, though first he ran his fingers through his hair to try and smooth it down. The moisture from the hot springs clung to the strands, making even the most stubborn wave lie perfectly in place

"Coffee, huh?" Nathan asked in an entirely composed manner, pretending to be impartial. "What changed your mind?"

Elizabeth looked thoughtful, her eyes glancing up to the expansive sky that often drew the two of them together. Objectively, she began to describe her reasons for switching.

"Coffee has more substance, for one. It fills me," she added, holding Nathan's gaze while she sighed dreamily.

"It lasts longer," Elizabeth suggested pragmatically, her focus lingering on the hand she'd just placed on his shoulder. She traced the firm contours of his muscles with her thumb, feeling the way they shifted and interlocked beneath his skin, a subtle reminder of the strength that had steadied her after her unexpected fall in the spring.

Then, when her attention gradually returned to Nathan's face, her eyes met his, and she found herself lost in the quiet intensity of his eyes, as though they still held a thousand unspoken stories.

With a steady gaze, she murmured thoughtfully, "Coffee has a richer flavor, too, wouldn't you say?"

"I'm not rich 'Lizbeth," Nathan noted with a boyish grin.

She laughed softly, loving the way he broke right through the subtext to say what was on his mind.

"Rich in depth, sweetheart," she clarified for him before dissolving his knowing smirk with a kiss. "The best kind of wealth, in my opinion. And you're that and more, Constable," she assured him.

Ready to melt into this man's arms and engage in a different form of communication, Elizabeth decided to wrap up her layered analysis. So, she finished by explaining how much she appreciated the way the range of additions enhanced the versatility of the drink.

"If I'm honest, I like the variability of coffee, as well. Sometimes it can be sweet, other times strong…occasionally extra hot." She eyed Nathan with a sly smile, wondering how he might react to her last coffee preference.

"Only occasionally?" he bantered back, his hand softly stroking down her bare arm.

"Well, it can always be extra hot as far as I'm concerned" Elizabeth began, feeling the heat rise in her face, though she wasn't sure if it was due to the talk of coffee, Nathan's touch, or the steam from the hot springs. "I just have to take little sips then," she reasoned logically.

"Sips, huh?" Nathan asked, with his characteristic half-smile. He lifted his hand from beneath the water and touched its wet warmth to her cheek as he guided her face slowly toward his lips. "Like this?" he whispered, kissing her fully, but then pulling away long before she was through.

With a playful pout, Elizabeth suggested a modification. "Maybe a longer sip." Subconsciously, she tucked in her lips until they released just in time.

Now, with both hands cradling her face, Nathan kissed his self-declared coffee fan, his lips moving with tender intent, every kiss filled with meaning.

"Yes, perfect," she murmured breathlessly, before confirming her full conversion. "Just coffee for me."

Drunk on their love and the steam of their kisses, Nathan circled back to her first reaction to his query of 'Coffee or tea?'

"And you doubted whether this question even reached the inconsequential level," he lovingly accused her. "What do you have to say about that now?"

"I'm willing to admit when I'm wrong, Constable. It's as you said. When reviewed carefully, it was a question of eternal significance, wasn't it?"

"I'm glad you see it my way," Nathan replied, self-satisfied, before intoxicating her with more long sips of sweet, strong, and extra hot coffee.

As their lips eventually separated and Nathan's lingered near hers, Elizabeth suddenly recognized the need to be more transparent.

"Nathan, I realized just now…I haven't been totally honest with you."

The sudden seriousness in her tone piqued Nathan's interest.

"I will likely still drink tea with Rosemary," she confessed, leaning into a worried expression for how he'd react to her infidelity.

"It won't be easy, 'Lizbeth," he said, matching her weighty inflection. "But, I guess I can accept that detour from the one true path," he quipped with an exaggerated eye roll he'd learned well from parenting Allie. "For the sake of friendship, that is," he added, noting the noble cause.

"That's very understanding of you Nathan," she said appreciatively. Then, attempting to soothe the impact of what would only be an occasional deviation, she took care to remind Nathan of her unwavering devotion to him as a man.

"I want you to always remember the choice I made on our first family picnic, though. When you said, 'Coffee,' Nathan Grant, I didn't hesitate..." Amidst the teasing, her gaze suddenly went soft as she spoke the words that filled her mind. "...Not for a single second."

Nathan smiled at the reference, continually amazed by how effortlessly they could shift between humor, passion, and substance—an unspoken rhythm of heart-to-heart communication that never seemed to falter.

"Do you remember what I said?" she asked expectantly.

"Generally, yes," Nathan recalled. "Word for word, no," he admitted.

Speaking directly into this patient man's eyes, she reminded him. "Yes, please." She gently slipped both of her hands into Nathan's, intertwining her fingers with his. "I was committed, you see…"

"True," he smiled warmly, squeezing the strength of his love into her delicate hands.

Nathan's blue eyes locked with Elizabeth's, his emotions a flurry. The significance of what it felt like Elizabeth might be saying weighed heavily on his chest, so much so he could hardly breathe. At the same time, he felt like chuckling at how they'd taken this one inconsequential question to such lengths, turning it into something much bigger than either had anticipated. And yet, despite the humor of it all, he found himself increasingly drawn into the passion of Elizabeth's gaze, the sensuality in her presence making it clear, in a way that words couldn't, that she was already his.

In a rare moment of indecision, Nathan paused, unable to adequately filter through what he was feeling in order to drive his next move or express a coherent thought.

Elizabeth's eventual grin made the choice for him, a mischievous glint in her eye as she considered a perfect segue into more intimate kisses with her constable. "It turns out, Nathan, there's another drink that must not be forgotten, one I believe we both equally enjoy."

With her cheeky inference to apple juice, Nathan's instincts kicked in. He accepted her invitation "I'll take that drink any way it comes."

Soon, they were so lost in kisses that Nathan gradually pulled them back, momentarily taking on the role of the teacher. Having assigned the homework, it was only right that he ensured it was thoroughly turned in—not in written form, but in conversation. After all, the afternoon sun was shifting, inching toward the horizon as the minutes passed, and there were still four questions remaining.

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Author's Notes:

This was a fun chapter to write, and there are more questions to come! I want to thank some wonderful friends, ghostwriterheartie, ck15nc, and whencallsthemusic for contributing brilliant questions and helping with the editing of this chapter.

Of note, Nathan was right! He was ahead of his time with his facial hair style. The "soul patch" became popular in the 1940s to 1960s and then saw a resurgence in the 1990s and early 2000s.

More conversations, adventure, and romance await as Nathan and Elizabeth cross into the late afternoon hours.

Thanks for reading!