Chapter 10: The Little "Nothings"
With Nathan's left hand interlaced in Elizabeth's, he held the journal open as best he could, stretching out his injured right hand out of necessity. Before he'd even started reading, his sweetheart noticed the strain and instinctively crossed her free hand over to support one side of the journal. Her seemingly small gesture allowed him to rest the other side of the journal against the natural curve of his hand, alleviating any additional pain.
The little "nothings," he thought, in profound gratitude. Nathan then began to read about a week from the past that was filled with such moments, all of which coalesced into a comforting blanket of support.
What a week, but one that could've gone so differently without Elizabeth. It's funny now…me, coming to Hope Valley to look after her. I mean, sure, I've saved her life, but in her own way, it seems that she's saving mine. When I walked through town the other day and saw Archie of all people talking to Allie and Elizabeth…it's like all the disgust and anger I'd ever felt for him caught up to me. But, more than that, I hated this man, claiming to be my father, for barging in and messing with the life I'd managed to build for myself, outside the shame he'd brought on our family. It was humiliating for Elizabeth to see that part of who I am. Her father, a respected businessman, and mine, a thief. I remember the day she found out about Archie. To me, she was Mrs. Thornton then, and she wouldn't even look me in the eye.
"Nathan … I'm sorry," Elizabeth interrupted, "but I have to interject. The reason I couldn't look you in the eye had nothing to do with social status," she assured him, her gaze meeting his with sincerity, as if to solidify her words. "I felt awkward that I'd learned something so personal about you without you being the one to tell me. I didn't want you to think I was prying," she admitted.
"I know," Nathan answered with genuine understanding. "In actuality, it didn't take long to figure that out. If anything, I was really touched by how you responded. I wrote a little more about that later on." He paused for a moment, his eyes briefly lingering on hers before he turned back to the journal, his fingers skimming the pages as he prepared to continue reading.
I felt like a boy again, standing on the street in my grubby clothes. For the times I wasn't ignored, I got looks of pity, disgust, or judgment. I knew even as an adult, a Mountie, I'd still feel branded by whatever look she eventually gave me. But what speaks the most to Elizabeth's character is that when she turned to leave, I didn't feel shunned or discarded like I had as a kid. I felt cared about. It seems like the moment she knew this dark part of my past, it was simply an entry point for her to see how she could help. Now that I think about it, if anything, what Elizabeth branded me with was frosting, and I didn't mind that mark in the least. Somehow, even being from a high society Hamilton family, Elizabeth reminds me not to take myself too seriously.
But overall, this last week felt anything but lighthearted. If it'd been up to me, I wouldn't have listened to one more word out of Archie after I first spotted him on the street, and I certainly wouldn't have let him see Allie. But, without an ounce of judgment, Elizabeth essentially managed to tell me I was wrong on both fronts.
"Now that's not fair," Elizabeth interrupted again, her smile playful yet determined. "I didn't say you were wrong…"
Nathan chuckled, shaking his head with mock exasperation. "Not in so many words, but, yes, you did," he added, his voice light but with a hint of affection as he met her teasing gaze.
Elizabeth swatted him lightly on the arm, the action gentle but filled with increasing confidence. Enough time had passed, enough healing had taken place, for them to slip back into this easy rhythm of bantering and affection. Despite the chilly autumn air, the warmth of the moment was undeniable; and with it, any residual tension from their earlier argument seemed to dissipate, leaving behind the comfortable ease of two people who truly understood each other.
"But I admired that, 'Lizbeth," Nathan insisted, his blue eyes still sparkling from Elizabeth's flirtatious touch. "You've always been honest with me, though I think you do it in a much sweeter way than I do," he said, laughing again, his eyes brimming with love.
"Well, I try," Elizabeth coyly confessed.
"That night really meant a lot to me," Nathan admitted, his heart open and trusting as he referred to the frosting-on-the-nose evening. Shifting positions for a more intimate connection, he wrapped his left arm around Elizabeth, and snuggled her in close against him. The looks they lovingly exchanged in that moment filled the emotional space between them with a renewed sense of safety built in the wake of their earlier heartache. "You saved me with that sleepover," he added, the words a tender truth he knew even then.
Elizabeth couldn't help but giggle at the memory. "That I did," she said, proudly owning her role as the rescuer to the single dad surrounded by a gaggle of silly schoolgirls.
Nathan smiled in response, recalling perfectly the sense of "home" he unexpectedly felt that night. "But before you left," he continued, returning to where she'd wisely redirected his path, "do you remember what you said to me?…About Allie?"
"Was this one of the times I told you in so many words that you were wrong?"
"Yes, as a matter of fact," he quipped, his grin easing into something more thoughtful. "But it was exactly what I needed to hear," he assured her, hoping she sensed his heartfelt appreciation, "And, to be honest, it so happened to come from the only person I was likely to listen to," he added with an affectionate squeeze.
Elizabeth's heart swelled, jumped, and swooned all at once. Earlier she'd dropped into a self-deprecating cavern, feeling empty and alone in her thoughts. There, she'd faced the sober truth of Nathan's painfully accurate perspective—she'd only ever reliably been there for him during his trainwreck moments. So, having Nathan remind her of the small ways she'd made a difference in his life was deeply reaffirming, inspiring her to find even more ways to show up for him amid the chaos as they newly blended their everyday lives.
"You looked at me with those beautiful blue eyes," Nathan recalled, "filled only with good intentions, and gently suggested that I listen to what Allie was feeling." Her words lingered in his mind as he was hit with a sudden realization. "I seem to recall you giving me similar advice recently. I must be one tough nut to crack," he joked, laughing at his own imperfections.
"No…" Elizabeth said, drawing out the word, giving Nathan the grace he so often offered her. Leaning against him more firmly in added support, she humbly explained from recent experience herself, "Sometimes, it's just easier to hear what we don't want to hear when it comes from someone who cares."
"Well, I hope you'll keep being that 'someone' for me," Nathan said earnestly, his humility evident as he openly acknowledged his own flaws within the safety of their loving relationship.
"Nathan," Elizabeth said pointedly, though her voice was soft. She rested her hand above his knee, as she tied her own words about that 'someone' back to their argument that morning. "It may have been hard for me to hear, but I appreciate what you said, about digging deep."
"I'm sorry that I overreacted," Nathan offered, always so quick to apologize. "I definitely could've responded in a more gentlemanlike manner" (1).
Nathan's word choice startled Elizabeth. He was the most "gentlemanlike" person she knew, not perhaps as polished as the men of Hamilton, but by far the most refined and pure in heart. His approach couldn't have been more genuine and considerate. She was the one who behaved poorly.
"You had every right to question me like that, Nathan. I was shutting you out, absorbed in my own fear and anger when you were just trying to help us grow together."
"And as difficult as it is to change our ways—my ways, in this case," Elizabeth continued, her thoughts lingering on Nathan's heartfelt words as he stood behind her earlier, sharing his heart. "It's a necessary part of the journey, if we are, in fact, going to grow old together."
Before Elizabeth turned to catch Nathan's response in his eyes, he let out a soft, imperceptible gasp—astonished and touched by how openly they'd started talking about their future. It was a clear sign of "when," not "if," and the realization filled him with an overwhelming longing to be hers, a reality that couldn't come soon enough.
Once Elizabeth's eyes met his, she felt an unmistakable depth of lifetime love reflected in his gaze, giving her the quiet confidence to keep sharing. "I know we're not keeping score, Nathan. But when I think of all you've done for me, even in my most undeserving moments, I know I could list a hundred ways you were there for me." Holding up her gloved hands, she said, "This, for one," offering the most recent example, only minutes past. "You shine in even the littlest moments."
Looking at these two now, side by side, Nathan's arm draped lovingly around Elizabeth, her body snuggled up against him, locked gazes, one would never imagine they were reconciling after an argument.
"The little 'nothings,'" Elizabeth mumbled, her eyes suddenly animated from an unexpected flashback. "I remember writing in my journal that week," she began, "the week your father showed up in Hope Valley. It's the funniest thing," she said, continuing her explanation. "Saying that phrase, 'the littlest moments,' reminded me."
Now, with her thoughts finally shuffling into a structured order, Elizabeth spoke with her usual eloquence. "I wrote about how important it is to appreciate the little moments, since they come and go so quickly. Then I copied down a quote that I'd come across that really spoke to me. I don't remember it exactly, but the essence of it was that there's nothing "little" about those moments—they shape who we are, and will always be a big part of us. I know that's not quite what you were saying earlier, but the message is the same, the little 'nothings' that collectively mean 'everything.''"
"Mmmmm," Nathan murmured in thought, struck by their shared epiphany. "Maybe what we were experiencing together that week was also written in the stars."
"I think so," Elizabeth agreed, her voice softening as she grew pensive, momentarily lost in the thought of their journey together and how fate had quietly shaped their paths.
A wave of peace washed over Nathan as he felt the depth of Elizabeth's understanding, relieved that she seemed to fully grasp what he'd meant earlier—how support in his more common little "nothings" was necessary for him to feel balanced in their relationship. Still, he considered the risk of revisiting their morning disaster in an attempt to tie her insightful, but theoretical words, to practical application. For the sake of their growth, Nathan decided to take the leap.
"Will you be upset if I give an example from today?" He quickly put his hands in the air, signaling their truce would remain in play.
Settled in Nathan's love, she dug in to accept his feedback. "I'm sure it will be helpful, if anything."
"Now I know I didn't tell you about those two climbs and why they were important to me, but in my mind there were some telling clues if …" He paused, thinking maybe this wasn't such a good idea.
"If I'd been looking," Elizabeth said, finishing his sentence, though thankfully not looking ruffled in the slightest.
Unsure of how to safely respond, Nathan simply flashed his charming half-smile and dove into highlighting some of the clues. With care, he mentioned the rope and described his and Bill's early morning efforts the day prior to secure it. In jest, he commented that ropes aren't conveniently placed along cliffs that look interesting to climb. This elicited a giggle from Elizabeth, a sign of her healing heart. Then, Nathan gestured to the horses, packed with multiple bags—a testament to his preparations for their date, and replied with a chuckle, "Enough said, am I right?"
"I want you to know, though, that I took this all on because I wanted to, 'Lizbeth. I'm the one who turned down your offers to help. I just wanted to give you a few surprises," he shrugged, no longer with an air of mystery, considering they were homeward bound. "Plus, I didn't want you to worry ahead of time about the rock climbing."
"That's sweet of you, Nathan. Thank you," Elizabeth responded with warmth in her eyes. After a soft shoulder bump, she added, "You know me all too well. I would've worried."
He smiled, appreciative of her notice. Circling back to the practical application, Nathan explained, "I only brought up those clues to show that where I put my time and energy will always be clues to the little and big things that matter to me."
"Like today," Elizabeth mused.
"Like today," Nathan repeated, "Here with you," he emphasized, removing her glove again, this time without permission, to interlace their fingers. "You shine in the big moments, 'Lizbeth. You always have," he assured her before offering further encouragement. "And I can really feel you're learning in the little moments, too, while I'm clearly struggling to accept the help, as well," He laughed, thinking how he'd decided to prep for this date on his own.
As the last notes of their amusement faded, their eyes caught, engaging in a fleeting tug of war between lips and their lingering stare. Although close to full reconciliation, their hearts weren't quite ready yet to let go and fully trust again.
"Do you know what made me feel hopeful today, about the little 'nothings' as you called them?" Nathan asked, his eyes easily holding Elizabeth's gaze in conversation.
She smiled, sending a look of doubt his way, considering the only possible options that passed through her mind: abandoning the climb, perhaps? Did that make him hopeful? Her angry words? The way she pushed him away? She couldn't imagine what he meant.
But for every negative thought of Elizabeth's, Nathan voiced a compensatory point of praise.
"You allowed me to hold you even when you were angry with me.
"You held my hand and didn't pull away, though I'm guessing you wanted to.
"You were feeling hurt, but you stayed and talked through the pain."
And finally, Nathan landed on one of her smallest, but most meaningful gestures of support. "You may have avoided my eyes at first, but not for long. You looked at me, 'Lizabeth. You didn't run away. You saw me, just like you did when you first heard about my father in prison."
"Nathan!" Elizabeth exclaimed with sudden realization. "Your journal!" She couldn't believe they'd been sidetracked. She'd never loved any book before like she was coming to love the book that held the intimate thoughts of Nathan Grant.
"I want to hear the rest," she said with sincerity. "But first…" she started, looking deeply into his blue eyes, "Thank you, for being patient with me and appreciating my small victories. I want to be there for you, Nathan, more than you know. And I'm sorry I wasn't today. But, I'll try to look for more clues," she offered, looking directly into his eyes. "I promise."
As their gazes locked, drawn together by such heartfelt words, Nathan and Elizabeth's eyes once again danced between the opposite pair of lips and blue eyes, both silently hoping that, even though only minutes had passed since their last stare off, that they'd somehow be ready now to express their love physically once again.
Though a faint undercurrent of hesitation still lingered within Elizabeth, rooted in her own insecurities, she leaped—this time, for Nathan. However, in reality, her actions felt more like a careful saunter toward a kiss, each step deliberate, as though reconstructing the intimacy they'd shared before her selfish choices pushed them apart.
Elizabeth's eyes dropped to Nathan's lips, as she leaned in, settling her warm hand gently along his clean shaven jawline. The corners of his lips responded with a slight curl, anticipating her kiss. In contrast to the frosty air, he could feel the heat of her breath against his skin. The moment Elizabeth's mouth finally molded to his, they both faced an explosion of emotion, as if it were their first kiss. They parted after just two kisses, each one flooding them with sensations that reaffirmed the love that had always existed between them, even if their hearts had been briefly bruised.
"I'm sorry," Elizabeth grinned, though not sorry at all. "I keep distracting you, sweetheart," she murmured, falling easily back into one of her most common terms of endearment.
But at the mention of the word "sweetheart," another distraction crept in. "I guess I have one more," she said, with an apologetic look. Settling into an intimate yet more conversational distance, Elizabeth shared an observation. "When I was climbing, you called me 'sweetheart.' I don't remember you doing that before. It's always been 'my love,' or 'beautiful.'" She gave no more explanation, leaving room for him to fill in the gaps.
"The first one surprised me, to be honest. It just slipped out," he began. "But, then 'sweetheart' just fit the situation somehow." He paused, his gaze softening as he considered the word more deeply. "I guess it's what I call you when I see you pushing through something tough—when I'm proud of you and want to remind you that you're not alone in it."
"I liked it," Elizabeth whispered, bringing her lips once more to Nathan's.
Nathan's smile grew, warm and tender, as he pulled back just enough to meet her gaze. "I'm glad," he murmured, his voice low with affection. "Because to me, you're everything—beautiful, my love, and my sweetheart, too."
"You and your words, Constable!" Elizabeth cooed, in full swoon. Then, in a tone of sincerest love, she added, "Frugal or not, every word matters."
Where Nathan's heart had ached earlier, weighed down by disappointment and the sting of Elizabeth's actions, it now swelled with a love so deep it seemed to stretch his heart in every direction, leaving him both humbled and overwhelmed by the goodness of it all, as well as speechless.
"Speaking of words…" Elizabeth smiled, tapping at his journal. "I'm desperate to hear more!"
"If you insist…" he teased, though deeply moved inside by her encouragement. Elizabeth was absolutely nailing these little moments, already making him feel more supported than he could've ever imagined.
Hardly remembering what he'd read earlier, Nathan realized it didn't really matter, since everything in those pages had been centered around the one person who'd changed his life—besides Allie, of course.
So, without any introduction, he began where he left off in the entry about the week his father unexpectedly showed up.
At so many of the hard moments, Elizabeth was there, and now I'm realizing it probably wasn't by coincidence. It's ironic that she doesn't even yet know I came to Hope Valley to look after her, and here she is, looking after me. It's meant the most in how she's been there for Allie in ways I can't. I'm too jaded by memories of the past. But, just like Allie, Elizabeth's generous heart is wanting to see the best in people. It's not a surprise that of all the doorsteps in Hope Valley, Allie chose Elizabeth's with a suitcase in hand. In all honesty, I'm thinking that's where I'd want to be, too. It's not my nature as a Mountie to be trusting. So, I appreciate Elizabeth's softening influence in my life.
I so readily assumed my father was guilty when he was charged with stealing a necklace in Benson Hills. It was Elizabeth who gently, but firmly pushed that maybe, just maybe this time he was telling the truth. Something in me wanted to hope she was right. Her willingness to believe in someone she didn't even know pushed me to find out more by going to Benson Hills myself. Just like me, all the Mounties there assumed the case was closed. Criminals commit crimes. That's what they do.
But the Mounties hadn't—
As Nathan's eyes landed on the next line, he was reminded of how deeply it had affected him to read aloud the words Elizabeth had written about him. During their last date, as she'd read past entries, she'd grown emotional a couple of times and had asked him to read instead. He knew then—just as he did now—that sharing those vulnerable thoughts had created a bridge between their hearts, one he was eager to cross again, this time with her.
"'Lizbeth, remember how I ended up reading some of your entries on our last date?"
"Yes, of course. I'm not sure we would've gotten through otherwise," she responded with a delicate laugh. "It was just so emotional, feeling the connection between the past and our present…and the hope for our future," she added, the weight of her words settling softly into Nathan's chest.
"I know the feeling," Nathan said. "Hearing my own voice reading your words…They weren't just on paper anymore. It's like they were coming straight from your heart. Anyway, since you said earlier how much you loved my 'thank you' in the street for the same reason…do you want to read the last two paragraphs?"
"I'd love to," Elizabeth said, honored to be trusted at all with his journal and additionally grateful for his thoughtful gesture in asking her to read. She knew these words—Nathan's heart laid bare—would bring her closer to him in a way nothing else could, at least for now.
As Nathan handed off his journal, Elizabeth was surprised to hear him say, "Wait." Then, while explaining, he stood, resting a hand on her shoulder. "I haven't felt close enough to you all morning. So, that needs to change first."
"I like the way you think, Constable," she replied, watching his every move, wondering what "close enough" looked like for Nathan Grant.
Leaning into one hand, he knelt down briefly behind her, then positioned his legs until they were stretched out on either side of her. As he shifted into place, his hands gently guided her shoulders until she was leaning back against him, nestled into the warmth of his body surrounding her. Since Elizabeth was holding the journal, his arms were free to circle around her, resting his hands where the climbing harness had once been cinched.
As Nathan wriggled his bottom into place, challenged by the uneven surface of the stone, Elizabeth giggled and asked, "Are you alright back there?"
Though Elizabeth couldn't see the grin on Nathan's face, she could hear it in his self-satisfied words: "Better now…" Always the gentleman, he then asked, "You?"
Elizabeth responded first with a quiet sigh of pleasure, then with words. "Couldn't be better." Turning her attention to the journal, she asked, "Where should I start reading?"
Nathan, distracted by his hands resting along the soft curves of Elizabeth's upper thighs, never heard her question. Instead, he dipped his head to the side of hers and whispered into her ear, "I really love your outfit, 'Lizabeth," noticing how her riding pants accentuated her long legs, especially with one ankle crossed over the other.
"I think I can tell, Constable," she whispered back before tucking her lips in momentarily. "Do you know how?"
"Hmmmm?" was all Nathan responded.
Now Elizabeth giggled. "Because I asked you where I should start reading and you never answered."
"Oh," he murmured, a little bashful. "Right." But not minding in the slightest, Nathan leaned firmly into Elizabeth, his head peering over her shoulder, his arm naturally curving around her to scan his words. Relishing the closeness, he lifted her hand gently before extending her pointer finger and placing it carefully on the line, as if marking not just the page, but the moment.
"There," he said softly, kissing Elizabeth sweetly on the cheek before relaxing again into his hold. "That's back a couple of lines for context."
Surrounded by Nathan's loving support, Elizabeth began reading,
Just like me, all the Mounties there assumed the case was closed. Criminals commit crimes. That's what they do. But the Mounties hadn't met Elizabeth Thornton.
Elizabeth paused, a smile spreading across her face. "Now I see why you had me read."
Nathan squeezed his arms around her in response, risking a fair amount of intimacy as he clasped his hands and rested them across Elizabeth's waistline. "I hope it meets your standard," he said, though he knew full well how touched Elizabeth would be with his heartfelt words.
Something about the moment made Elizabeth's heart race. She knew how Nathan felt about her—of course she knew. She'd felt it in every glance, every quiet gesture. But now, just seconds away from hearing her own voice read aloud the very thoughts of Nathan Grant, she was struck with a nervous excitement she hadn't expected. After drawing in a steadying breath, she continued reading.
I couldn't have managed this week without her, and by no means is that an overly dramatic statement. Without her, my dad would be in prison for a crime he didn't commit and Allie would hate me for keeping him from her. Instead, the man I'd only been willing to call Archie became my dad again and Allie's gained a grandpa. Though I can't help but be skeptical, my glasses are getting a little rosier the more time I spend around Elizabeth, and for the first time in twenty years, I feel hopeful about a relationship I thought was long dead.
Elizabeth elevates everything and everyone around her, and I'm realizing, for the first time in decades, that maybe I don't have to be the one to carry everything alone. Maybe it's okay to let someone in. Maybe Elizabeth is the one person who can teach me that trust isn't a weakness, it's a strength. I still can't dare to imagine what the future holds, but with her in my life, even the little moments in the meantime are worth looking forward to.
Once Elizabeth finished, she sat in silence. Nathan was right. Those words weren't just ink on paper—they transcended time and space, spoken from his heart to hers. In that moment, she wasn't sure she'd ever felt so deeply seen, so thoroughly loved.
Still, one phrase lingered in her thoughts. "Little moments," she murmured, her voice soft but filled with understanding, realizing how completely their hearts and minds had aligned during that pivotal week. "No wonder you mentioned that maybe, even then, our story was 'written in the stars.'"
"That was a week full of 'little nothings,' Lizbeth. And you were there for me in every way, even down to watching Allie, which I'll thank you now, not in the name of Allie, but from the bottom of my heart."
Elizabeth swooned at his words, at the reality of where they were since four years ago when Archie mistakenly took her for Mrs. Grant. With Nathan sitting behind her, though, the gravity of what he'd just shared was only noticeable by the shift in Elizabeth's weight against his chest.
"I've loved nothing more than discovering what's in your heart, Nathan. I'm so grateful you've been willing to open up to me."
"What can I say? Sometimes you have to decide if it's worth it or not. And for me it was. The risk for you was more than worth it."
Elizabeth sighed contentedly, his words pulling her back to the pivotal metaphor he used for a chocolate egg at Easter time. "For me, too," she said simply.
Despite the earlier roller coaster of emotions, the two sat for a moment in comfortable silence, immersed in the love they'd long shared for each other.
Moments later, Elizabeth was the first to speak. "Nathan, you said your journal was ramblings, that you weren't even thinking of punctuation." She paused, her tone softening with genuine admiration. "But your writing—it's beautiful. I can feel how completely it flows from your heart to your pen."
Nathan offered up humbly, "I'll credit the inspiration to you, my love. If I were writing about rock climbing, I'm not sure you'd feel as affected."
"Nathan," she nudged him in a scolding voice, closing his journal and resting her hands on his. "You know what I mean."
"Well, thank you, I suppose," finding it difficult to accept the compliment.
Now referencing the content of Nathan's journal entry, Elizabeth remarked, "I'm so grateful your father was innocent, and that you gave him the benefit of the doubt."
"That was all you, 'Lizbeth. You gave him the benefit of the doubt. I just trusted your instincts, which I've come to believe are better than most Mounties."
"They led me to you, afterall," Elizabeth replied in clear agreement. Their minds wandered in unison to past conversations, moments where her instincts deeply mattered.
After another stretch of reflective silence, Nathan was the one who finally spoke, his voice carrying the last words his father had shared with him before departing Hope Valley. "One of the only things my dad ever told me that made any sense was that 'People can change…if they're strong enough and motivated to do the right thing for the people they love.'"
"That was true for him, wasn't it?" Elizabeth said lovingly.
Thinking of his father's fragile health now, Nathan's voice softened, barely above a whisper. "You gave me years with my dad I wouldn't otherwise have had. I'll never take that for granted," he murmured, the weight of those words sinking deep into his chest.
"Every moment is precious, isn't it?" Elizabeth said, her voice a soft echo of his sentiment.
"That it is," Nathan replied, his gaze distant for a moment as the memory of their own shared experiences hung in the air.
They paused, their breathing slow and steady, sharing a quiet, intimate silence that spoke volumes. After a long moment, Nathan gently unwound himself from around Elizabeth, taking care not to break the connection. He rose slowly to his feet, then extended his hand to her with a warm smile. "Well, shall we pack up?"
His question startled Elizabeth, until her mind drifted back to a time that felt like ages ago—an entirely different space, both emotionally and physically. She realized how distant her earlier request to go home felt now. She no longer felt the reservoir of tears that needed to be shed alone in her bedroom. Yet, still feeling the aftermath of all her emotions, the comfort of even her settee and shawl seemed to draw her in, offering a soothing reprieve she hadn't known she craved until Nathan's question made it a viable option.
In that moment, though, Elizabeth reminded herself that through some heartache and work, she was home again with Nathan, in a relationship that was still cementing into a stronger foundation. She felt a new conviction to look beyond her own needs. The lesson she'd drawn from Nathan's journal sank deep as she thought about what being a lifetime love to Nathan Grant would look like. Just because his capacity to bear any load was above others, didn't mean she should walk beside him allowing him to carry it all. She needed to look for ways to help him.
To Nathan, she realized, all the little "nothings" of her attentive care while Archie was in town added up to Nathan feeling for the first time like he could open his heart, like he could trust someone, that he could even need someone.
She could still hear Nathan's pressing voice asking that pivotal question in the schoolhouse, "What do you want?" Though it had come from a different place back then, it echoed in their present, reflecting the deeper layers of their relationship.
Nathan had even just revisited that question, asking her what she wanted for them. In this moment, without hesitation, Elizabeth knew exactly what she wanted: Nathan Grant and the journey of change, growth, and infinite love that came with him.
For now, Elizabeth acknowledged, he was learning to reach out, and she was learning to look. Their path was one of continual growth, and as challenging as it could be, Elizabeth would answer Nathan every day that he was the one she wanted.
So, in response to Nathan's question about packing up, Elizabeth accepted his outreached hand, though, unbeknownst to Nathan, her gesture was only as a means to rise off her cold, rocky seat.
After returning his smile, with a mischievous glint in her eyes, she released Nathan's hand, and left him standing in confusion as she walked toward the rock wall. Bending down, she picked up the rope. Then, while looking Nathan directly in the eye she began to reveal one of her biggest little "nothings" as of yet.
"Do you know any Mounties around who could teach me that belay thing?" she asked playfully.
Entrenched in past patterns, Nathan, himself, responded in typical fashion. "'Lizabeth, you don't have to—"
"I know I don't have to, Nathan," she said matter-of-factly, "But, I want what you want—-to be better together." Now, she walked back toward him, rope in hand. "You've gently nudged me in the past to think, to be honest with myself."
Her softened, humble gaze met the deepest, most loving blue eyes she'd ever known. "Just now you did the same for me," she said humbly. "You held my hand, you brushed away my tears, but you didn't shy away from telling me a truth I didn't yet understand. I haven't learned to dig deep for you—in big moments, perhaps I have, but we both know it's the day to day practice that takes the most loving care."
Elizabeth freed up one of her hands from the rope to reach up and gently rest a hand on Nathan's cheek. "You are the best person I know, Nathan. You've always been there for me in the little moments. I may need you to point out some specific ways to help me along, but I'll be watching for your little moments, I promise."
Nathan lifted a hand and tenderly covered Elizabeth's with his. "Thank you, 'Lizbeth," he whispered, uncertain as to whether he could trust his voice to say more. He wasn't sure his heart had ever felt so much emotion at once…other than maybe during his and Elizabeth's first kiss, when he approached her like a gentleman only to be met by her passionate kiss in return.
That was Elizabeth's way, Nathan started to realize with hope, love, and admiration. His gentle nudges eventually brought explosive results. And he dearly loved her for that.
He knew what they were capable of. He felt it. And they were getting there. That reality filled him with awe, hope, peace, and a love that he felt strengthening every relationship around him.
Maintaining her momentum to support Nathan and all he'd planned for their date, Elizabeth swiveled her head around, muttering to herself, "Where's that harness?"
"You sure?" Nathan asked, still with hesitation.
"More than sure!" she shot back with confidence, her eyes still darting around, trying to find that harness.
"'Lizabeth, you really don't have to … especially if you're doing this just for me."
Suddenly, Elizabeth turned, locking eyes with the selfless Mountie, and placed an authoritative finger to his lips. "Shoosh. I'm doing this for us," she murmured, her voice soft but firm. She flashed him a coy smile and, with a tenderness that melted his resolve, kissed him where her finger had just been.
"You know, you can be extremely exasperating sometimes," she teased. Nathan merely responded with a raised eyebrow and a smirk, silently suggesting that sentiment might just go both ways.
Grateful he chose not to elaborate in words, Elizabeth explained her side of the coin. "I mean, I'm still trying to wrap my brain around the fact that Nathan Grant, the impeccable Mountie and extraordinary man, is in need of anything!" Her eyes sparkled with both admiration and humor. But, then flipping easily to a more serious tone, she added, "But of course you are, Nathan. Everyone is."
She looked at him tenderly and shifted back to her playful teasing. "With my long history of needing you, do you mind if I offer a gentle suggestion since you're new to this whole idea of needing anyone?"
"I don't mind at all," Nathan chuckled, always endeared by Elizabeth's teasing ways. "I'm all ears."
"If someone," she began, "me, for example," she said, placing a hand to her chest, "offers to do something for you—like belay a climb, perhaps," she added cheekily, holding up the rope, "it's best not to try to talk that person out of it."
Nathan opened his mouth to defend himself, but in realizing just how true her assessment was, he simply said, "Fair enough," with a humble and appreciative smile.
"Great!" Elizabeth said. "We're in agreement." Then, dangling the rope in front of her, she announced, "So, I'm ready for my belaying lesson, Constable, and I'm hoping you'll be my teacher."
"Well, lucky me," Nathan responded, grinning like the gobsmacked man he was. "I'll get ready, then."
Elizabeth chuckled softly to herself as she watched Nathan gather his equipment, a smile tugging at her lips. This was going to be one wild ride, she thought—not just the climb, but managing a Mountie who wanted to need her. In the wake of her first intentional little "nothing," meant purely to support him, Nathan had ironically resisted, unwilling to ask too much from her, out of his deep, all too often self-sacrificing love.
Considering the challenge, she was already formulating a few mental notes in an attempt to be there more often for Nathan through the little "nothings."
First and foremost, Elizabeth decided to make this a matter for her daily journal, not as an accounting, per se, but as a deliberate regimen that would lead her to look more intentionally and regularly for ways to support a man who really could do it all, and who for years had made looking after her a priority.
Second, she'd be asking more questions, hoping to uncover the little "nothings" that matter to Nathan and to improve her understanding of where and when he might appreciate her added strength.
And last, but definitely not least, she thought, with a smile, she'd have to insist on helping, knowing that for a while, anyway, Nathan might whip out his, "'Lizbeth, you don't have to…" But, with time and consistency, Elizabeth hoped that her little "nothings"—steadfast and reliable—would become second nature to him. She longed for Nathan to trust that he could lean on her, just as she'd leaned on him for so long. After years of him looking after her, she wanted to return that love, to lift him up the way his love had always lifted her.
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Author's Notes:
Instagram's MountiewithHeart created an exceptional post about the human struggles of insecurity and self-doubt. In past seasons, Elizabeth suffered through these same tendencies. Although she repeatedly encouraged others to be courageous, as shown in MountiewithHeart's reel, she struggled to apply that advice to her own messy circumstances. Eventually, in response to a firm nudge from Nathan, she learned to listen to her heart, muster her own strength, and right her path according to her deepest desires.
Fortunately, that led her to Nathan. Unfortunately, since these are human struggles, they often repeat themselves. In Chapters 8-10, Elizabeth goes through the same process when she ends up feeling hurt, frustrated, embarrassed, and ultimately lesser than for having disappointed Nathan.
In the past, Elizabeth often coped by burying what she felt or pushing away those closest to her, much like she did with Rosemary. But recognizing in these chapters that, even in conflict, Nathan would be a safe space—someone ready to sit and work through the hard moments—she rediscovers her strength. This, in turn, thankfully broadens her ability to look outward and helps her create a more balanced relationship with Nathan moving forward.
The link to MountiewithHeart's reel is just below. The caption is beautiful and applicable, so don't miss her stunning words as well!
It might be my lack of tech smarts, but this platform doesn't seem to like periods associated with websites, so to find the reel, type in Instagram's website, Instagram dot com, where dot = . (a single period). Then add this after "com:" /reel/DCdA0gANr2v/?igsh=NTc4MTIwNjQ2YQ==
Story References:
(1) Pride and Prejudice reference. It just fit!
"Tough nut to crack" was a perfect description of Nathan Grant, brought up a ways back by author maggienhawk