Chapter 9: Healing Hearts

Thirty minutes had passed since Nathan lowered Elizabeth from the rock wall. Naturally, she'd removed her gloves for the climb, and now was missing their warmth. But the icy numbness inside her prevented her from searching them out. She ached for the coziness of home. A reservoir of tears was waiting to be shed, in the solitude of her own room, for the unexpected heartbreak she'd faced that morning.

She needed to cry for all the turmoil she'd felt, both on and off the wall. But as the fear from her fall faded, what cut her the deepest was the thought of disappointing Nathan. Yes, she still believed he'd overreacted—why had the climb mattered so much, anyway? Yet, after snapping at him once more, surprising even herself, she turned her back to him in response. Facing Nathan now only mirrored his emotions, a painful reminder of her own imperfections and how desperately she wanted to give him more, but couldn't seem to figure out how.

Ultimately she longed to be wrapped up in her home—the person, rather than the place. But beyond even the physical distance between her and Nathan, the emotional divide felt daunting. So, at this point, her optimal solution lay in a blanket on her bed and a book—alone, giving her heart the room to heal.

Nathan approached Elizabeth cautiously, stopping just behind the rock where she was seated, facing away, close enough to show he was still there, but respecting the space she'd clearly claimed. With Elizabeth's last words circling in his head—I just want to go home, Nathan—he sighed into the inevitable, crushed with the change of plans.

But intent on making the most of this messy conversation, Nathan worked to see it through and find some resolution. Though hesitant as to how his touch would be received, he moved forward one step and lightly rested a few fingers from behind on one of Elizabeth's shoulders.

Earlier, when Nathan saw Elizabeth absentmindedly rub her hands together against the cold, he remembered her gloves in his back pocket. Reaching with his other hand, he retrieved the gloves from his pocket and silently offered them over her shoulder.

"Thank you," he heard her quietly murmur. Though Elizabeth didn't turn, her gratitude was evident as she immediately slipped the gloves on.

In a resigned voice, Nathan said softly, "If that's what you want, 'Lizabeth—to go home—we can head back soon. I just need to tell you this. As much as you shine in being there for those you love in their toughest trials, I've also seen you excel in the little moments, too. If I remember right, one of the first compliments I gave you was that I admired your loyalty to your friends."

Elizabeth hid a reluctant smile, though she quickly realized she didn't need to, as her face was blocked from Nathan's view. Though that man said he was an "open book," she was often surprised by what came out of his mouth. Her insides churned from all the conflict, but the love she could still hear in Nathan's voice reassured her he wasn't going anywhere. And so she listened with a relatively open heart.

"You give your whole soul, 'Lizbeth," he said with heartfelt praise. "I know what that looks like because I've seen it in your friendships all these years." Now he felt almost embarrassed with his request, but he plowed forward anyway. "I guess I'm just hoping to feel the same devotion for me." In typical Nathan style, he offered her grace in taking a good deal of the blame. "Maybe it's not as natural since I do a lot on my own, but that's only because I've had to."

As Nathan unburdened his heart, he relaxed his stance, widening the distance between his feet. With his lowered posture, his hand now rested fully on Elizabeth's shoulder, and he gently raised the other to do the same on the opposite shoulder, brushing his thumbs affectionately along both sleeves of her tailored coat.

Grounded by touch, their enduring love flowed freely, as did Nathan's candid words. "I've lived independently for so long that it's taking more work than I would've known to grow together with someone. And I don't take it for granted that even though I don't make things easy, you're still here with me."

He squeezed Elizabeth's shoulders, cradling them like a hug, in the midst of a tug of war between his instincts of self preservation and the deepest truths of his heart. Ultimately, the risk of loving completely won by a landslide.

"I want to grow old with you, 'Lizbeth," he said tenderly, the gravity of that statement lingering in their hearts. "Even if you never climb another cliff," he chuckled, trying to keep it light after their weighty conversation. "But I don't want to live two separate lives. I want us to trust and depend on each other."

As Nathan continued his cautious connection, holding Elizabeth only by her arms, she sat quietly, lost in thought, contemplating the unique challenge they faced as a couple. Both had spent much of their adult lives living alone. It just so happened that Nathan was remarkably capable and self-sufficient, not the type to rely on anyone. Yet, beneath that serge, she reminded herself, lay a man who, in his own way, needed someone.

In a gentle pull at her heartstrings, Elizabeth realized Nathan hardly knew how to need anyone. He was asking her to be there for the little moments, but even he had a difficult time knowing what those might be until they'd come and gone. How many opportunities for selfless love had been lost because he didn't exactly know the fine points to communicate and she hadn't yet learned to see the way perhaps only a Mountie could see. That honed perception, she believed, was certainly why Constable Nathan Grant knew her heart so perfectly. The gloves just now were a quintessential example. He noticed everything.

To her, this conversation had been a painful and humbling reminder, a quiet but persistent nudge toward a skill she needed to cultivate—seeing Nathan with the same depth he saw her, if not more. Yet, it wasn't an easy ask. She knew within herself, there was an abundance of weak points, glaring places where Nathan could step in and fortify, if he chose to. For Nathan, though, she'd need to look for the subtle cracks in his otherwise unshakable exterior, the places where his quiet vulnerability hid.

But there was one thing Elizabeth knew for certain—what Nathan needed, more than anything, was her love. It was the one thing that could soften his edges, the one thing he couldn't build for himself. And it was the one thing she was willing to give him, without hesitation.

From Nathan's point of view, standing behind Elizabeth, he'd lost the advantage of reading her eyes and interpreted her silence as a sign that she was still upset. So, hoping for more resolution before the ride home, he poked at her playfully, "Look, I know you love me."

Elizabeth smiled at his words, and then her lips broadened even more by what followed. From behind, Nathan lowered to his knees, and peeked his head in beside hers, teasing with a familiar phrase, "I know you feel the same way I do."

Though she was immeasurably grateful that they were now able to even tease about some of their past, all it took for Elizabeth was those memorable words to know she never wanted to push Nathan away. She nestled her head affectionately against his for a moment before turning to meet his gaze. Now face to face, Nathan noticed the loving smile she'd been wearing throughout most of what he'd shared. He returned the smile and eased back from his knees, shifting his weight as he sat back on his heels for more stability.

"I do love you Nathan Grant," she confessed, lifting her gloved hand to his cheek, "more than the stars in the sky."

At the tender touch, Nathan couldn't help but lean in, pressing his lips to hers. The warmth of her kiss seemed to melt away any residual anger, dissolving the tension within him, and in its place, a quiet hope began to stir. The ground beneath his knees and feet felt solid, but nothing compared to the grounded peace he felt in that moment.

"I love you, too," Nathan whispered, as he searched her eyes. In them, he saw the promise of something more—something lasting, something real. He wanted to hold onto that, a hope of the warmth and certainty that was now filling the space between them. "More than words can say," he added softly, which, for Nathan, was a saying that often dovetailed into physical expression.

But, at the mere beginning of their resolution, Nathan tucked that emotion away for a later time. Reassured by the clarity returning to Elizabeth's eyes, Nathan thought of what he'd told Robert when the young man delivered her letter, accepting his invitation for this date.

Pushing up off the ground, he stood and walked around the boulder to Elizabeth's right. "May I sit?" he asked, his voice loving, but hesitant, no longer making any assumptions.

"Of course," Elizabeth smiled, landing a shoulder bump against his arm once he'd settled in beside her. He laughed softly, warmed by the familiar gesture. Simultaneously, without thinking, they turned their knees inward until they touched.

Now that Nathan was near, it was easy for Elizabeth to pick up on his telling mannerisms. He opened his mouth to speak, but then his lips closed momentarily, with only the tip of his tongue resting in between—a subtle sign she knew well that meant he was nervous. It was a small, almost imperceptible gesture, but it spoke volumes about the vulnerability he'd rarely shown in the past. Elizabeth's heart softened at the sight.

Showing her readiness to truly listen, she prompted him gently, her words memorable, but her tone quiet and caring. "Nathan, if there's something on your mind, please just say it." His head instantly swiveled, as his eyes searched for hers. He recalled those words perfectly, and felt silently grateful for their progress in speaking from their hearts.

"I won't bite this time," she added with a small smile, her voice laced with warmth, "I promise."

Nathan softly laughed. There wasn't a sound Elizabeth loved more. His shoulders visibly relaxed as he met her gaze. "You're lucky I believe you," he teased back, his smile matching the quiet humor in his voice. He let out a breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding.

"I guess it's hard for me to describe exactly what I mean. Ultimately, I just know I can be a better version of myself if I can really trust you, if I know you'll be there for me more than just in my rare moments of crisis. So I suppose what I'm asking you is to be there for my little moments, too, like I've seen you be for your friends. Even though I'm not always sure what those moments might be for me either …" he mused, with a sheepish grin.

"I can continue to do everything on my own. I'm used to that," he said matter-of-factly, reflecting back to his twelve-year-old self working at the shipyard. "But, I already know what it feels like to shut you out, 'Lizbeth, to shut everyone out, really. So, even though what we already have is more than I could've imagined, I want more than just loving you and you loving me."

Elizabeth softly gasped, feeling his words so tangibly, as if they were being spoken directly from his heart to hers. As he continued, her attention narrowed to where she heard, felt, and saw what he meant all at once. Their communication was no longer just person to person, but soul to soul.

"I want to know what it feels like to rely on each other. I've never had that before, other than with some of the Mounties." His eyes lingered on Elizabeth's face, cherishing the way her attentive expression made him feel as if every word he spoke mattered. "But that's a different application…obviously," he added.

Understanding began trickling in for Elizabeth. To her, their first activity of the day had just been a climb, one that scared her to death once she realized she couldn't hold herself up any longer. She'd so narrowly focused on her own experience, though, that she'd failed to anticipate that for Nathan, the climb meant more—much more.

"Nathan, I'm so sorry. 'Just rock climbing' was one of those little moments for you, wasn't it?" she asked, realization setting in.

In a quiet admission, Nathan's head tilted slightly as his lips curved into the faintest, almost imperceptible, smile.

"I ruined your date," she said, her voice soft, sincere, and tinged with noticeable regret. To Nathan's surprise, and honestly Elizabeth's as well, his smile spread wider, amused how even Elizabeth's apology held unintentional charm—her cute pouty lips, her eyes wide and open with a vulnerability that was almost impossible to resist.

With such a heart melting expression juxtaposed against the inescapable truth of her words, he hardly knew how to handle Elizabeth's apology. He wasn't angry—not anymore—but he couldn't deny the weight of disappointment in the pit of his stomach, the ache that seemed to stem from both his body and his heart.

Still, Nathan accepted some responsibility for the date gone awry, "It wasn't really fair to you, in hindsight. More was riding on this climb than you knew. And …" he willingly admitted, "you're right. I did tell you it was 'just for fun,' though I really only added that in to help you not worry."

"I see," Elizabeth said. While hiding a smile, she quietly made a mental note to ask more questions in the future, hoping to improve their communication. "Maybe you could tell me what you were hoping would come of this climb, so I can better understand," she wisely suggested, her tone warm but curious, since she truly wanted to know. "After all, I can't know what I haven't been told," she added. Elizabeth watched him closely, hoping her invitation would offer him the space to open up, to share what had been on his mind all along.

Her nudge worked perfectly. "In the Mounties, we rely on each other, like I mentioned. We need each other. And what that creates is really…well, an inseparable bond. You've seen that I know with Jack, and with me." The moment Nathan mentioned himself, his heart somersaulted, still in utter awe that they were a couple, that this wasn't just one of his many dreams.

As messy as this date had been, he honestly felt blessed to even be having this conversation because it meant they were working toward melding not only their hearts, but their practical day to day lives. "Like the Mounties, I want to feel that same trust between us. But it's not built through words. So, even if I'd told you this wasn't 'just rock climbing' today and the outcome was different because you knew it mattered to me, I don't think the overall impact would've been nearly as powerful as if you'd figured that out for yourself … if that makes sense."

Elizabeth looked thoughtful, processing through Nathan's words.

Supposing at this point, he should just lay it all out there, he revealed his original plan. "So, maybe you'd thought about what would've come next after your climb, or maybe not, but I'd actually planned to do the same route after you."

"After me?" Elizabeth said in surprise. While Nathan's decision to climb seemed logical, the order most certainly did not. "Why not before me?" she reasoned. "I know I would've felt a lot better about my climb if I'd watched you make it safely to the top first!"

While that was obviously true, Nathan brought up the reality she didn't yet understand. "I can see how that makes sense," he offered, supporting her thoughts before asking an all important question. "But how would I have reached the top?" he asked, his eyebrow raised as he waited for the teacher's answer. However, since she looked as if she didn't understand the question, he asked another, "Would you have liked watching me free climb?"

"The rope!" she said, with sudden realization.

"Yes, the rope," Nathan smiled. "So," he began, circling back to her original thought, "would you rather have climbed first or belayed first?"

"Belay?" Elizabeth exclaimed. "Me, belay?" she asked incredulously.

Nathan chuckled, her eyes still wide at his suggestion. "Right. So, I'm guessing you preferred the order I chose."

Still stuck on the idea of her belaying this 6'3 giant of a man, she asked in bewilderment, "How was I supposed to belay you?"

Nathan explained that while belaying seemed challenging, the actual practice wasn't that difficult. What mattered more than size was watchful care, positioning, and a readiness to respond. While he normally wouldn't put his hands in the life of a novice, as an experienced climber with only a 35-foot crag to scale, he felt it was worth the possible risk to symbolize the trust he was wanting to build in their relationship.

Once Elizabeth realized all the thought he'd put into this initial stop of their date, she felt sick at heart. She'd really messed up. No wonder Nathan had been so upset. His earlier words rang in her ears with a new clarity, "If you don't trust me after all that, to be there for you, to keep you safe, how can I trust you'll be there for me?"

As she thought about Nathan's intended itinerary, Elizabeth replayed the morning's events, profoundly regretting each choice she'd so myopically made. Not only did she jump ship after the first obstacle, she allowed herself to be swept away in her fear. Instead of thanking Nathan for his expert save, she immediately hurled unwarranted anger his way and essentially declared she didn't trust him, a statement that threw salt in the wounds she'd already so callously inflicted.

Then she dug in, but clearly not as he'd hoped. Elizabeth dug in to defending her excuses rather than opening her heart and ears to actually listen. Her simple choice to quit had understandably made Nathan question just how much he could trust her to really be there for him.

Though Elizabeth started to sense her error earlier, the realization she'd disappointed Nathan drove her even deeper into feelings of inadequacy and self-doubt. Nathan may not have backed down from explaining an uncomfortable truth about their relationship, but his unwavering support was evident in the way he stayed with her and continued to reach out for resolution. And truly, his willingness to fight for what their love could be was certainly an indicator of his commitment.

Unknowingly, she'd been a wrecking ball to Nathan's thoughtful date, and here he was patiently describing belaying and continuing to invite her in rather than closing off and shutting her out. Humbly, Elizabeth accepted how Nathan's steadfast love bandaged her wounded pride and flooded her with appreciation for his ongoing grace with her imperfections.

As much as Elizabeth longed to kiss Nathan breathless, to fully express her gratitude and love for this remarkable man, she still felt undeserving. She wanted to earn that intimacy first, as if paying penance for her self-absorbed choices. She hoped that through her committed actions, Nathan would feel the depth of her love, the kind that would naturally flow into those eventual make-up kisses.

In the meantime, Elizabeth validated Nathan's hope for their relationship, while still offering her own wise counsel. "You planned the perfect date, Nathan, you really did," she assured him, resting a supportive hand on his knee.

"Even if I did mess up the object lesson," she added with her adorable apologetic face, "understanding the symbolism you'd meant to convey helps me visualize where you hope to see us. Still, as much as I want to be there for you in the little moments and change immediately, I honestly think it will take time. We're works in progress, right? And the same goes for our relationship, too."

In her seasoned teacher's voice, Elizabeth gently broke the news to Nathan, the highly capable, disciplined Mountie, that not everyone could turn on a dime. "So, maybe we'll have to settle on a slower pace for what you're hoping to see, as far as trust goes. I happen to know the bond the Mounties share comes at a high price; and at least for me,I kind of hope we don't go through whatever it is that bonds them so quickly and so tightly. But we've already made it through such trying situations together, and I know we can get there in time."

"That's true," Nathan responded, adjusting his expectations. Yet, once again filled with gratitude for what he was already living, he added, "As long as I have you in my arms, I can be endlessly patient with the process." In his words, there was an undeniable intention to express his love physically, a tenderness that spoke for itself without needing to be said aloud.

Though both longed to reconnect, they knew they still needed time and space to rebuild their sense of safety and trust. So Nathan used only words, for now. "My disappointment got the best of me today. I just wanted it all to be perfect, you know?" He chuckled softly, owning his typically high expectations. "I guess I should accept that's not the way things usually work for us."

Nathan tentatively placed a loving hand on Elizabeth's back. "I know we were planning to head out. But can I read you something first?" His blue eyes were filled with hope, silently asking her to stay just a few minutes longer. In reality, the request was on her behalf. He knew their honest, but needful conversation had hurt her. So, he hoped to soothe that pain with words he knew would touch her heart.

"Your journal!" Elizabeth exclaimed, suddenly remembering now how he'd planned to share various entries on their date as she had done earlier. "Of course, Nathan. I want to hear what you wrote."

He smiled, each word and every tiny gesture from Elizabeth like building blocks, one after another, gradually strengthening the foundation of his trust.

After Nathan retrieved his journal, he settled beside Elizabeth, cautiously moving closer, guided by the subtle signs of reconciliation she'd shown.

"I just needed you to hear this, especially with how today went. I actually wasn't planning to share this entry, but I think you'll like it."

As Nathan opened his journal and began flipping through the pages, Elizabeth's eyes, still lingering on the memory of her climb, finally noticed the fiery line across Nathan's palm.

"Nathan!" she gasped, removing his hand gently from the journal to examine the wound. Based on its unusual shape and location, it wasn't long before a sickening realization dawned on Elizabeth's heart. "The rope," she said softly, her eyes darting back and forth between the injury she'd caused and Nathan's face, searching for any trace of hurt in his eyes, as if the wound on his palm could mirror the damage of her words

Discovering only acceptance and forgiveness, Elizabeth raised his hand tenderly as she cradled it against her cheek. "I'm so sorry," she offered, her apology aimed directly at his eyes.

"It looks worse than it feels," Nathan said stoically, not wanting her to get swallowed up in remorse. "But, thank you," he smiled warmly, holding her gaze.

As he returned to his journal and found the entry, Nathan leaned on humor to ease the self-consciousness creeping in, knowing he was about to read unfiltered thoughts from years ago. "I hope my writing won't be graded, Mrs. Thornton. These journals are often just rambles, and I know the last thing on my mind was punctuation."

Elizabeth laughed heartily, relief filling her heart at how their interactions were falling back into their natural rhythm. "As promised, Nathan, I left my editing pen at home. The only thing I'm going to be listening to is your heart."

"Well, since I thought I was just writing for myself at the time, I hope I'll get an 'A' for effort."

"An 'A' for effort sounds fair," Elizabeth replied with a playful smile, her affection growing with each word as she leaned gently against him, resting her hand on his arm—small, tender touches that slowly rebuilt their intimacy, each one an indication of a renewed trust.

Like their first night on the porch, Nathan glanced over at Elizabeth, relying on his sight to validate the warmth he felt spreading through his heart. Though she'd mentioned her self-doubt about shifting so quickly to support him in the smallest of moments, Nathan was already overwhelmed by how deeply attuned she was to his needs even now.

Returning his eyes to his journal, he cleared his throat in a subtle attempt to steady the emotion swelling in his chest as well as his rapidly pounding heart.

I remember the day Elizabeth welcomed me to Hope Valley. I'll admit, I'd been cynical about this town with the name "Hope" in it. But she assured me I'd eventually like it, and it turns out, she was right. In fact, I think just living here is changing me. I can't help but wonder if she sees that.

In my first few months here, if anyone had asked for some lawsuit advice, I would've passed them on simply because it's not within Mountie jurisdiction. But that very thing happened today, and I ended up offering to look into the case—for Henry, of all people. Even though the town says he's not always on the up and up, there was something in me that wanted to help. I'm not sure which reward I liked better, actually proving Henry's innocence, or being on the receiving end of one of Elizabeth's approving smiles.

The sound of Nathan reading his own thoughts brought tears to Elizabeth's eyes. As his words filled the air, her mind drifted to the image of him when they first met—his blue eyes so warm and caring, masking so much pain. She couldn't have known then all that he was carrying: guilt from Fort Clay, the grief of his sister's death, the burden of raising a young girl, a childhood stolen by the shipyards, and the shame of his father in prison. The fact that he was this open with her now was nothing short of astonishing. He had clearly dug deep as he'd said earlier, and in that moment, her determination to be there for him grew exponentially.

True to her nature, she wasn't at all surprised Henry was innocent. She gave me that knowing look and told me, "People change, Nathan." Even for a Mountie, Elizabeth can be tough to read sometimes. Was she referring to Henry? To my father? Maybe even to me? Spending a year in this town now, I happen to think the strength behind Hope Valley is the beautiful & thoughtful Elizabeth Thornton, herself. Hope Valley is a special place, yes. But I've seen how loyal Elizabeth is in her friendships and how she always brings out the best in people. Maybe that's the change I'm seeing even in myself.

I can't seem to help that I'm falling for her. There are definitely moments when she looks at me that I know she cares. I can feel her warmth. Still, I don't want to push her at all, considering how heartbreaking these years have been for her. I can just be here for her if and when she's ready.

Nathan's eyes lingered on the journal page, lost in the memory of falling in love with the woman now nestled beside him.

Nathan," Elizabeth murmured quietly, her eyes searching his, filled with awe. All the self-doubt and worry about disappointing him began to fade into the past. The words he'd just read may have been written four years ago, but the admiration in his eyes and the love in his voice brought that same heartfelt message to life in this moment when her bruised heart truly needed the reassurance.

Nathan held her gaze, and the air stilled, thick with the unspoken love that passed between them. "And that was just the beginning of you changing me for the better," he whispered, lifting her hand to brush a soft kiss across her knuckles.

"I could say the same about you, Nathan Grant. You've consistently been my motivation to be the best version of myself."

Nathan remained silent, only staring in disbelief. He found it hard to imagine that his effect on her had been as substantial. But it had.

Elizabeth continued, her voice thoughtful. "What's always stood out to me between us is this constant current of change. It's not always comfortable," she chuckled, acknowledging her own vulnerability, "staring your faults in the face…like I did today," she meekly added. "But the self-reflection that naturally happens even just living alongside you as a friend, has always made our relationship stronger…and closer" she finished, narrowing the gap until they were hip to hip with no space left between them.

After exchanging smiles at her affectionate gesture, Nathan said, "It's the same for me. I remember how insistently you pushed me to even consider that my father might be innocent."

When Nathan's gaze lowered from Elizabeth's eyes to his journal, he noticed her gloved hand nearby. "May I?" he asked, while motioning to the glove.

"Only if you promise to keep my hand warm," she replied with a returning sparkle in her eyes.

"I promise," Nathan vowed, his words heavy with unspoken layers, each one carrying a different weight.

Once he'd removed Elizabeth's glove, Nathan cradled her hand in his left, the uninjured one, while his right hand gently traced the lines of her fingers, gliding down to the tips of her nails. As he did, Nathan returned to the memory of Elizabeth being the one to persistently press him with the truth.

"When you suggested that maybe my dad wasn't guilty," he began, his voice softening, "I kept throwing excuses at you—criminals don't change, there were witnesses, he had money that didn't add up. But nothing swayed your sweet heart, 'Lizbeth." He smiled fondly at the thought, his voice tinged with tenderness. "'What if this time he's really innocent?' I remember you asking me."

After Nathan had finished tracing each of her fingers, his thumb lingered gently across her hand, brushing affectionately back and forth, his injured hand resting carefully on the journal in his lap.

"That question spun and spun in my head all week," he recalled.

"Oh dear," Elizabeth uttered, recognizing how irritating that must have been.

"It was annoying, yes," Nathan laughed, his radiant smile emerging in full for the first time since her slip. Then he sweetly added, "But it kept the sound of your voice in my head, and I didn't mind that part at all."

Elizabeth's lips curved into a smile as she met his gaze, her eyes sparkling. "Well, I suppose it's nice to know I've made such an impression…in one way or another," she teased, her thumb brushing lightly across his hand in return. "Though I can't promise I won't keep asking questions that make you think."

"By all means," he shot back, "Keep asking," assuring her that he, too, expected some tough conversations from her that put him in the hot seat.

Elizabeth pressed against him playfully in the lightest of shoulder bumps, suggesting she understood his meaning.

"It's funny we landed on that conversation about my father," Nathan remarked, a hint of surprise in his voice. "It was actually the journal entry I'd planned to share, after our climbs," he added, simply as an afterthought. But, recognizing Elizabeth had already graciously stayed to listen to his other entry, he closed his journal, and started to stand.

Elizabeth caught his arm with a firm but gentle grip, stopping him mid-motion. "Nathan, please. I'd love to hear that one, too."

Noting the sincerity in Elizabeth's eyes, Nathan returned to a seated position. "You're sure?" he asked, seeking out a bit more reassurance, hoping this wasn't just for him.

"I wouldn't miss it for the world."

Nathan pressed his lips together, attempting to hide his highly affected smile.

"All right then," he said, opening his journal and flipping a few pages back from where he'd previously read.

As Nathan scanned the journal, looking for the right spot, Elizabeth's hand rested gently on his arm, her touch full of quiet affection. "Do you know what I noticed that week about you?"

"What?" he said, playing along, though realizing her leading question could go a thousand different directions.

At the sound of Elizabeth's giggle, Nathan assumed her observation couldn't be that bad. "How you used Allie to say what you really meant," she announced.

Nathan opened up his mouth to defend himself, but instead tilted his head and readily confessed with a guilty smile, "That's probably true."

"There'd been hints of it before, but it couldn't have been more obvious in the conversation we had before you left for Benson Hills."

At Nathan's questioning look, suggesting that he clearly didn't remember the details, Elizabeth filled him in.

"As I remember it," she began, "You looked miserable realizing you'd need some help with Allie while you were gone, so I jumped in and offered to have her stay with me."

"Ah, yes, I remember that now. I was miserable," he laughed. "I didn't want you to feel obligated."

"Well, I was delighted. But, do you remember what you said next?"

Nathan chuckled, "No, though I'm guessing you do."

"I do." Elizabeth said succinctly with a smile. "Despite my grand gesture to rescue a man I was growing rather fond of…you, Constable, hid behind your daughter." Her accusing eyes were twinkling with mischief. "I remember your exact words. You said, 'She just has such an ease about you. I just, she really needs this right now. So, thank you"

Nathan shrugged and held up his hands, rope burn and all, in self defense.

"What I read from that," Elizabeth analyzed, "is that maybe, just maybe, you were telling me even then that you needed me."

"I suppose I was," Nathan openly admitted, remembering how befuddled he'd felt around Elizabeth at that time. "That's what really stayed with me that week, too, the feeling of needing something beyond myself. So having someone offer to fill that need without even being asked…

It's those little "nothings," you know?" he said, tying in that idea of "little moments." "It turns out they really matter."

"Mmmmmm," Elizabeth murmured in agreement. "Yes they do," she added, her thoughts drifting to how his simple "You matter to me" flipped her world upside down, or more accurately, right side up.

"As for Allie," Nathan prodded, deciding not to let Elizabeth off so easily, "I don't think I was the only one hiding my heart behind her." He raised his pointer finger, ready to reveal his playful accusation. "I happen to remember you, Elizabeth Thornton, running up to me in the street to tell me how Allie was loving writing her book report about Queen Victoria." He nodded his head in support of his already wagging finger. "I think it went both ways with Allie," he concluded.

"Was I that obvious?" the schoolteacher asked, blushing at the memory, though she couldn't help but laugh at herself.

"Only to a Mountie," he said affectionately, with his characteristic head tilt and lopsided smile.

"Do you know what I really loved?" Elizabeth asked rhetorically, staring up at him from under those long eyelashes.

Nathan didn't know the answer yet, but he liked where this was going.

"By the end of the week, when you'd just said goodbye to your father and all had been resolved…You caught my eye in the street, even though I was mid-conversation, and mouthed the words, 'Thank you.' Do you remember that?"

"I do," he replied instantly, recalling the comfort of gazing at the woman who'd brought so much light into his life, that week especially.

"Even though Allie was right beside you, I knew that 'thank you' was straight from your heart."

Elizabeth's eyes were so full of romance that Nathan teased, "You look like you might swoon, 'Lizabeth. Should I be worried? I wrote far more than a 'thank you' in my journal."

"I'm all ears," she responded merrily, reaching for his hand and intertwining their fingers with a quiet certainty. "I know you'll catch me, if necessary."

At the affirmation of trust, their blue eyes locked, and before words were spoken both had the chance to hear what was in the other's heart—reconciliation and an increase in love.

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Author's Notes:

Thanks for reading and making this such an enjoyable journey with your outreach and support! I hope you enjoyed this chapter of resolution. Read on to Chapter 10, which is a part of this multi-chapter release. The "2nd UNchaperoned Date" is much like S11. So, this far into the story, you're nearing what will hopefully be some of your favorite parts.