Chapter 19: Healing Wounds, Old and New
As Nathan was changing, tucked behind a secluded stone boulder, he winced unexpectedly. One of his annoying swimsuit straps had just grazed the friction burn he'd sustained during a part of their date that now felt like a lifetime ago. Glancing down at his hand, he quickly became reacquainted with the telling fiery line branded across his palm. Honestly, it wasn't that bad, he reasoned. No blisters. Nothing oozing. He'd just somehow forgotten about it in the hot springs.
Granted, Elizabeth had easily held all of his attention, every nerve ending engaged in her touch rather than daring to signal pain. But, even still, he was surprised he hadn't noticed the burn, especially with the hot water. Then again, the mineral-laden water was quite soothing. The problem now was that the wound was finally drying out, stretching the abraded skin taut. No matter, he thought, his mind drifting back to the emerald waters, to Elizabeth and her intoxicating…well, everything about Elizabeth was intoxicating to him, down to the newness of her natural curls.
Nathan breathed a deep contented sigh and then immediately shivered, ready to return to the warmth of his clothes as well as his companion. As poorly as parts of this date had gone, the flip side was how the rest had been beyond his wildest dreams. A little rope burn? No problem.
On the other edge of the pools, behind a boulder, Elizabeth couldn't stop smiling. Once out of her pink bathing suit, she spread it over a rock beside her, intent to think about the giver of this intimate gift while she changed. Her smile soon widened to a grin, remembering the look in Nathan's eyes when he intentionally wrapped her in his own towel. Something had transformed between them here at these remote hot springs, as if the heat had reawakened the confidence she'd seen in Nathan years ago.
She understood his initial hesitancy, of course, when they first became a couple. But as the passionate moments they'd just shared flooded her mind, her heart soared, overwhelmed by the unwavering trust he now carried—no longer tentative, but completely sure of her, of them. Even in their intimacy, Nathan was taking the lead, understanding how the smallest touches directed her movement and, truly, they were both learning more about how to best follow the other.
Once the fabric of their swimsuits was replaced with the familiar feel of their regular clothes, the weight of their shared affection lingered even while apart. It was clear that their bond had infinitely deepened. So, this time, as Nathan and Elizabeth emerged from behind their changing stations, they still looked at one another with new eyes and approving smiles. Although back in their original outfits, already well-known and appreciated, they'd progressed as a couple in ways that went far beyond the surface—coming to intimately know one another, body and soul, beneath their outer layers.
"So, Constable," Elizabeth said, snuggling up to Nathan in a side hug. "What's next?" She noticed a blanket spread on the ground beside their horses. Within the hidden thoughts of her mind, she indulgently explored her own imagined scenario. By the proximity of the blanket to their equine friends, she couldn't help but wonder.
Was Nathan suggesting they now needed a chaperone of sorts? Perhaps not only even one, but two for absolute assurance—both Newton and Sergeant? At the thought, she tucked her head down and toward Nathan's chest, hoping he didn't catch the secretive smile that was breaking its way across her hopeful lips.
"Well," Nathan began, unaware of Elizabeth's thoughts or the telling smile that was currently angled downward. "I don't have much more planned here—some cookies," he said, smiling unapologetically at Elizabeth's knowing look, which fortunately worked well to include the earlier smile she couldn't seem to erase. "And for our date," he went on, offering more details, "I'd picked a journal entry for each spot. So, if that works for you, we can settle in for a few more minutes and then ride on after?"
Elizabeth noticed the tone of his voice, as if he were softly seeking her preference rather than handing out an agenda. Though Nathan was accustomed to giving commands in his work, she cherished how tenderly he treated her. "That sounds perfect," Elizabeth murmured, her heart already pounding in anticipation of what he might share.
"Great! I'll get the cookies," Nathan chimed in with the enthusiasm of their favorite six-year-old boy. The man in him, however, reluctantly lowered the arm he'd draped around Elizabeth's shoulder. But, with his insatiable sweet tooth, he couldn't help the separation. The cookies were calling. With the horses near, Nathan luckily didn't have far to go this time to retrieve the essentials. If it came down to a towel or a cookie, though, he would've far rather dealt with the consequences of a misplaced towel than a forgotten treat.
While Nathan was scrounging for the cookies, Elizabeth fixated on Nathan's journal. Since she knew he only ever said what needed to be said, she realized that whatever he'd chosen to read would be important. That certainly was the case with what he'd previously shared on their date that day. Her heart fluttered at the thought that every word would pull her deeper into his world, into his soul—offering pieces of him she'd never seen, yet felt as though she'd somehow always known.
Though Elizabeth's mind was preoccupied, her eyes lit up the moment Nathan turned from the horses, his mouth already half full with a cookie and his hand carrying a small brown paper bag. She shook her head as if her heart would burst, remembering just such a scene a while back in the park. As Nathan neared, she asked what seemed to be an innocent question. "Let me guess…Did Allie make the cookies?"
Nathan bit the place-holding cookie in his mouth so he could remove the rest to respond. "She did!" he answered in surprise, still impressed by Elizabeth's instincts, though he suspected she might be remembering the day Allie baked cookies for their playdate with Little Jack.
Within seconds, as he stood before Elizabeth, she tugged at his suspenders, a move that, by the laws of physics, inevitably brought him closer. "You know, you're too cute for your own good sometimes!"
Nathan laughed softly, grateful that his love of sugar correlated so wonderfully to such playful moments with his sweetheart. This was a perfect pairing, Nathan thought. Almost too good to be true, in fact. After leaving a loving hint of sugar on Elizabeth's lips, he lifted the other half of his cookie and with a single raise of a brow offered it graciously to Elizabeth.
"I'd love one," she answered eagerly. But, instead of retrieving the cookie, she remained in place, her face just a breath away from Nathan's after their sugar-laced kiss. Nathan tilted his head in silent question, his brow furrowing, until Elizabeth's eyes sparkled with intent, and her lips parted just slightly, offering him the next move.
"Ah," said Nathan with a quiet realization. "I like where this is going." He slid a small part of the cookie into Elizabeth's mouth, his fingers brushing gently against her skin as she took a bite.
"Mmmmm, that's good," mumbled Elizabeth. For a moment, Nathan simply watched her savoring the single bite, drawn in by her delighted lips. Never before to this lover of sweets had a cookie been so spellbinding. It seemed romance seeped into every action, every touch, and every word they shared.
But, with the remaining cookie in his hand, Elizabeth's slow appreciation became too much for Nathan's patience when it came to desserts. So, unable to resist the alluring temptation, he popped the rest of the treat into his own mouth, though the gentleman in him quickly made amends. "I do have more," he promised, holding up the brown paper bag.
Elizabeth smiled, finishing her bite, as Nathan gently took her hand and led her to the blanket. It wasn't until she'd tucked her legs to the side and touched her hand to the blue fleecy fabric that a soft gasp escaped her lips. She looked up at Nathan, whose gaze was already fixed on her. "It's the same blanket, isn't it?" she asked in wonder.
Nathan nodded, warmth instantly filling his soulful eyes, touched by how easily they could move between years' worth of memories without the need for any explanation. His chest tightened at the tender realization that, all along, Elizabeth had noticed the little things between them just like he had, even down to something as subtle as a cookie or a blanket.
"You remember?" he asked, his voice hushed with awe, as he lowered to sit beside her. Nathan's heart still thudded quietly, the realization settling deeper into him.
Elizabeth immediately nestled in beside Nathan's sturdy frame, her hand seeking his without hesitation. "How could I not?" she replied, her eyes full of affection. She interlaced their fingers, feeling how effortlessly their hearts had become entwined, as though they'd been this close since the very first day he'd selflessly stepped into Hope Valley.
Nathan's eyes were lost in the love he felt overflowing from Elizabeth's gaze. He'd brought this blanket specifically for their date, with a far reaching hope that maybe if he mentioned their shared connection she might vaguely remember the distant memory. So, the fact that Elizabeth instantly knew the moment her hand touched the fabric left him speechless. It was almost as if their past was being rewritten.
A few weeks back, on Elizabeth's date, she'd explained her intention to repair what she'd broken between them, understanding that a new narrative for the years they were apart couldn't suddenly fix all the heartache. Yet, that was exactly what was happening—the truth of a muddled story was finally being told, healing one wound at a time through treasured mementos, deep conversations, and journal entries bursting with unexpressed thoughts and feelings.
At this point in their relationship, they'd already confronted nearly every painful memory from their past. Each conversation awarded them a small victory in unraveling the hurt, a process that exposed any lingering scratch, so it could be medicated, bandaged, and properly healed."
Now, beyond the cuts and bruises, it was as if the love they so openly shared was extending back in time, filling every gap where it had once been missing, creating a seamless connection from the very moment Nathan's blue eyes turned from his desk to answer Elizabeth's tentative "hello" at his Mountie office door.
Nathan shook his head lightly as Elizabeth's words echoed in his mind, "How could I not?" Shifting toward his sweetheart, and tucking one of her errant curls back in place, he began to voice his thoughts.
"I guess it's still surprising to me at times that you cared so much all along. But then again, when I think back to those years, as confusing as it all was, there were definitely moments I felt like I could see this same love in your eyes that I do now."
As his gaze locked with hers, and he saw that very love reflected back at him, Nathan's hand naturally found its favorite position—his fingers threading through her hair, his thumb lovingly brushing back and forth across her soft skin.
Though this passionate couple had just kissed themselves dizzy, wrapped in Nathan's towel, it came as no surprise that there was still so much more they wanted to express. And so their lips met again, gentler this time, a sweet pressure. The distance of sitting side-by-side didn't deter them; if anything, it heightened the anticipation, making each kiss feel just a little more precious.
As Elizabeth's mind circled back to their conversation, before their diverting kisses, she understood that Nathan's mention of the past just now wasn't by any means an invitation to stroll along the broken road of their past, which hopefully by now had been repaired with all they'd already talked through. What he did lead into, interestingly enough, was how along their bumpy journey he'd happened to see her love at times, silently expressed through her eyes. At that revelation, she was beyond curious.
In a voice laced with seductive charm, she asked "Any moments you'd care to share, Constable?"
Nathan felt his quiet laugh easing the nervousness he felt about his journal entry that would tell of just such a time. It wasn't that he didn't trust Elizabeth. This entry was just so personal. Though it was written in a darker time, the week after she'd ridden away from him, its overall message was clear, and that's why he picked this one—not to draw them back into old memories, but to show her just how much he'd evolved through their love and friendship.
As a man who grew up determined to never rely on anyone but himself, Nathan still felt dumbfounded by his drive to love Elizabeth so openly. It was ironic, but needing her actually felt liberating rather than confining. And he'd found that to be the case in realizing he could truly rely on Elizabeth, perhaps only for the bigger moments at first, considering she was starting to date Lucas not long after he wrote this specific entry. But, in fast-moving strides, even on this date today, Elizabeth was proving she'd be there for all of his little moments as well.
Now, as Elizabeth looked at Nathan expectantly, trying to think back to when her love might've silently slipped through during the period she was with Lucas, Nathan flipped through the pages of his journal in answer to her earlier question. His mysterious smile never wavered, keeping her attention fixed.
"It turns out," he said, "I have just the one."
As Nathan rotated his hand to tilt the book up from his lap, Elizabeth suddenly gasped. "Nathan!"
Startled by her outburst, he searched her eyes for more understanding. But, before he could read them, he felt her warm touch. As his gaze lowered down to her hand, he knew immediately what had drawn her attention.
"It looks worse than it is," Nathan reassured her, referring to his rope burn.
"How could I have forgotten?" Elizabeth exclaimed, her voice heavy with remorse. Her eyes instantly sought out Nathan's, full and apologetic.
"Funny you should say that," he countered in a lighthearted tone. Leaning in, Nathan whispered beside Elizabeth's ear, his breath warm across her cheek. "It didn't cross my mind either, just now in the hot springs." While slowly drifting back to his original position, Nathan held Elizabeth's gaze as his head gestured in the direction of their romantic venue.
For a moment, Elizabeth smiled, her heart fluttering at his inference. Still, within her mind, the guilty truth pressed heavily that she'd been the cause of that burn. "But, Nathan—"
"Really, 'Lizabeth," Nathan interjected, "It's nothing."
Though she could feel the gentleness in his voice, she also sensed a degree of solemnity weaving into his tone, implying that he truly wanted her to leave the topic alone. In bearing the responsibility of the fault, though, she simply couldn't. "Well it doesn't look like nothing to me."
Seeing that Elizabeth wasn't going to let this go, and that her intention came from a place of caring, Nathan quickly decided to compromise, figuring a little extra attention couldn't hurt. "Why don't you bandage it up?" he offered, his blue eyes deepening with warmth, the kindness in them making the suggestion feel as much like an invitation as a simple request.
Elizabeth felt a wave of relief at his proposed solution, anxious to make any reparations for the wound she caused earlier due to her lengthy indecision. At the nod of her head, and her humble, "Of course," Nathan rose to retrieve his first aid kit from Newton's saddlebag.
During his brief time away, Elizabeth's guilt lingered over her. If only she could erase that whole first climb, she thought. But, too often brought down by her own self-deprecating thoughts, she instead chose to feel grateful that Nathan was allowing her to so quickly make amends.
Once Nathan returned, he sat in front of Elizabeth, face-to-face. Pulling out the needed supplies, he lined them up in the following order—well, first his canteen, meant to wash the wound, then a tube of petroleum jelly and finally, a clean bandage.
He reached out his hand, resting it gently on Elizabeth's lap, leaving himself entirely in her care.
Though not a nurse, Elizabeth was an experienced mom. Unable to separate from that tender role here and now, she warned the tough Mountie in a soft, calming voice. "This might hurt, sweetheart." She lifted his hand away from the blanket and poured cold water across the dry, irritated burn.
Nathan didn't cry or flinch or carry on by any means as Little Jack was prone to do, but ever aware of Nathan's subtle reactions, Elizabeth definitely noticed what no one else would in the stoic Mountie—a small furrow to his brow, a slight tightening of his jaw, and a brief flinch of his perfectly blue eyes.
Witnessing even this minor expression of pain up close, Elizabeth immediately felt the weight of every past hurt she caused Nathan, wondering now what his visible reaction had been in each moment, and through the emotional suffering that continued. It made her sick to think about, knowing that the word "tears" had even been mentioned once by Nathan. The thought of him crying, brought about by her own actions, flooded her own eyes with pain and remorse. "I'm so sorry, Nathan," she said, her chin quivering as a single tear slipped down her cheek.
"'Lizabeth," Nathan was quick to respond, surprised by her stirring reaction. "You're making too much of this, my love." With his other hand he lightly caressed her shoulder to comfort her saddened heart. "Believe me."
Elizabeth nodded in silence, knowing Nathan had forgiven her, of course, in all matters. "I just hate that I've hurt you," she whispered, glancing up to meet his gaze, hoping he could feel the love in her heart.
Understanding now that Elizabeth's tears spoke more than just the present, Nathan sought to relieve her of the gnawing guilt he was trying to temper in himself as well.
"That's a part of being tethered together, 'Lizbeth," he answered with layered meaning, referring to the way they'd grown through trusting in their shared rope. "And I think we did what was best," he assured her, referring to the steps they'd taken toward resolution—for the injury as well as for their troubled past. "We talked through what happened, apologized for the part we each played, and now you're bandaging up what's still hurt." He smiled warmly as he lifted his hand only slightly to add to his point, careful to not move much as she applied a smear of petroleum jelly over his burn.
Thinking now of their future, Elizabeth asked, "Will you promise me this—that you'll tell me if something is bothering you?" Though she meant what she was asking in all seriousness, she shifted her tone, knowing Nathan loved living in levity as well. "I mean, I don't want to be missing these hidden wounds while dangling in the air and enjoying the view."
Both chuckled at the irony, knowing her fall and subsequent panic certainly didn't play out in the way she described. When the last notes of their laughter faded, they easily settled back to a place of depth and understanding.
"I promise, 'Lizabeth. I really do," Nathan said. "And the same goes for you, too." Remembering back how she'd delayed telling him about Higgins, he reassured her. "You can tell me anything, you know."
"Yes, I know," she said, aware of ample evidence that grounded that truth. "And I promise, too."
Feeling more resolved regarding their past, present, and future, Elizabeth sighed contentedly as she finished wrapping the last loop of the cloth bandage. With deliberate care, she tied off the ends, then gently returned Nathan's hand to his lap.
"Okay, how's that?" she asked, hoping the bandaging provided some relief.
Nathan's eyes shifted from Elizabeth, focusing now on the feeling in his hand—the soothing moisture of the ointment finally settling into the raw, abraded wound. To further evaluate, he opened and closed his hand a few times. "Better now," he answered, brushing a sweet kiss across her cheek. "You're a true healer, sweetheart," and he meant that from the bottom of his heart.
Though from a medical perspective, Nathan observed that the dressing could've been done more effectively to offer better protection to the burn, he understood that in this moment, the bandaging wasn't just about his comfort—it was mostly about soothing Elizabeth's guilt brought on by more than today's fall alone.
Even if those feelings still crept up from time to time, Nathan hoped that Elizabeth would see that they no longer held power—just old demons scratching at her insecurities. Because the woman Nathan saw before him now, sitting on this blanket from their past, was no longer the one who'd sighed beside Lucas, burdened by a path she no longer wanted to follow. Nor was she the woman who'd perpetually run from her fears, afraid of what she might lose. Indeed, as a sign of her own growth, after hearing today about his flashbacks, it was Elizabeth who was now helping him face his.
The fact that she took on that second climb today still astonished Nathan. So, if there was one thing he wanted her to understand, it was that she was a much stronger person than she gave herself credit for. Elizabeth had stretched, grown, and filled an emptiness in his life in a way he hadn't even known to dream about. As he reflected on his lovingly bandaged hand, a flood of emotions stirred within him—pride, love, and an undeniable hope for the future they'd continue to build together.
Elizabeth's soft voice, warm and reassuring, gently drew him back to the here and now. Increasingly attentive to Nathan's smallest needs, she'd already considered their next steps in light of his injury. "Do you want me to hold your journal while you read? Or I could read it out loud instead?"
Nathan deeply appreciated Elizabeth's gesture. Earlier, when she'd read aloud the words he'd written after his father's unexpected visit, he understood how much that moment had meant to her—how the words, though written for a different purpose, felt as if they'd been penned just for her. But this next journal entry was different. He was realizing now that the timing of it posed a problem. When he filled these particular pages, his thoughts were still fragile, muddled in the confusion and hurt of her rejection.
He'd intended for the meaningful parts of the entry to shine through the noise, the parts that showed how much he needed her, but his perspective back then also carried a fair amount of pain. Despite the overall sentiment of gratitude and connection, there was still darkness there—darkness that might pull Elizabeth back into old and unnecessary feelings of guilt and regret.
Given her reaction to the rope burn just moments ago, Nathan found himself second-guessing his decision to share the entry at all. He wanted her to focus on the good, to see the role she played in his life even then, but he wasn't sure how to separate the two. Unsure of how to proceed, he searched for a way to delay, buying himself more time to figure out what to do next.
"No, that's alright," Nathan said, responding to Elizabeth's sweet offers to hold the journal for him or to read it aloud herself. With a soft smile, he settled close to Elizabeth, shoulder brushing shoulder. "I can manage, now that you've bandaged me up so nicely."
She smiled in return, humbled and grateful for his ongoing forgiveness of her many foibles.
Returning to the bookmarked page in his journal, Nathan scanned through the words quickly, wondering whether to read only the positive points. But, in all honestly, the context—the emotions tied to where they were in their journey at the time—was what made Elizabeth's response so meaningful. For him, it wasn't something he could possibly share in pieces. It was all or nothing.
Their date had been going so well since they'd talked through what happened after that rough first climb. So, above all, Nathan didn't want to ruin the moment by diving too deep into a past they'd already addressed, especially when the intimacy of the hot springs hinted at all the happiness that lay ahead. He felt precariously perched on a pivotal edge, torn between sharing his honest thoughts at the time and trusting Elizabeth to stay grounded in the present, not lost in a past they couldn't change.
"Are you sure everything's okay?" Elizabeth asked, a touch of concern in her voice, her hand resting on Nathan's knee as she tried to read his brow that was beginning to furrow.
"Yes. Fine," Nathan muttered, sounding more abrupt than he intended. To ease any rising tension, he quickly offered a loving shoulder bump before explaining his delay. "I'm just trying to make sure this entry was the right one."
For a few moments, Nathan lowered his eyes, not to read, but to weigh the decision in his mind—a decision that felt like it mattered more than he'd expected. After all the work they'd done to be open with one another, he let out a long sigh. He knew the moment had come to face the past head-on, straight from the words he'd written, unguarded and unmasked, during that chapter of their interwoven lives.
Despite the mess their story had been at the time, sharing this entry was part of what he hoped to express through this date: that he needed Elizabeth specifically, and, more importantly, that he wanted to need her. Just like he needed her now—to accept the words he'd written four years ago, in a different time and frame of mind, and to move forward together.
But Nathan knew the real challenge now would be whether Elizabeth could listen to his thoughts from that time, spoken with the clarity of the present, without succumbing to the guilt and regret that so easily overburdened her. Resolved to share his heart in its entirety, Nathan wisely figured a warning for the upcoming words might help ease their impact, considering her recent tears over what really was only a minor injury.
"'Lizbeth, sweetheart, before I read this, I want you to know something. I didn't pick this entry to revisit old wounds that, frankly, to me are nearly healed anyway. I'm in a good place with the past now, and I need you to know that. I hope you are too. What I want you to see in these words from four years ago —what I need you to see—is the change you were bringing about in me, and the love that I believed was worth fighting for. This is just one of those moments where I felt your love shining through."
Nathan's heart tightened in his chest, thumping louder and harder. He silently prayed Elizabeth would take the words as he meant for them to be heard now.
She nodded slowly, immediately sensing a heavier mood. It wasn't comfortable confronting the past, but Elizabeth understood that if there was still any lingering hurt between them, Nathan was now bound to share it, so they could face it together. With an open mind and an open heart, she prepared herself to listen fully as he began to read.
After clearing his throat, Nathan shifted his hand position, resting the journal on his lap so he could keep it open with one hand. With his other arm, he gently pulled Elizabeth close, drawing her in beside him.
It's hard to know what to feel right now. Even just yesterday, it seemed like the universe was against me, plowing me into the ground...with who else but Hargreaves at the helm. Still, I'm convinced that without Bill, without Elizabeth, that would've been my lot, left to be nothing more than the dust of the earth, just as the Bible talks about. I was resigned at that point, figuring I'd lose it all, my job, my serge, even my badge. So, what then? Would I even stay in Hope Valley?
The only way I was getting through, really, was because I was already numb from losing Elizabeth. But, as of yesterday, I was just ready to have it all over and done with so I could figure out what to do next. I'm familiar with life being a struggle, of putting my blood, sweat, and tears into what I want, only to have it not work out, with far too many things beyond my control.
This time, though, all the fight had left me. It was all too much. Why would I have believed something could be different this time? Hargreaves was out to get me, and there was nothing I could do about it. I'll admit, it wasn't the best place to be. But I couldn't seem to find even an ounce of hope.
Where I'm absolutely humbled is that at such a low point, my favorite people, somehow Elizabeth included, came through for me when I felt helpless to drive my own fate.
Bill kept breaking every rule in the book just to keep the inquiry centered on the facts. Though I appreciated every one of his objections, I know Bill hates bureaucracy, so I wasn't at all surprised that he was willing to be a thorn in Hargreaves' side and in the investigation itself.
What caught me most off guard, though, was Allie barging into Bill's office, with Elizabeth of all people at her side. It almost felt as if Colleen had something to do with it, sending what heavenly help she could. I'm so proud of Allie. She's a fighter. That's always been a part of her personality, that underlying fire to stand up for what's right.
I'd imagined Elizabeth was just there as moral support for Allie as one of her students. We really hadn't spoken since she told me how she felt, and Elizabeth hadn't even looked at me until Allie used the word "impeccable" and tied it back to her. It's ironic, thinking about it now. I was in the middle of an investigation that wasn't looking good, and there I was conducting an inquiry of my own—analyzing why Elizabeth gasped and immediately looked over at me. It wasn't just any look, either.
I'm guessing she didn't know that I'd already heard about that word. Allie told me everything yesterday, hoping it would cheer me up after spending the day on the chopping block. But, I honestly didn't know what to think. Elizabeth hadn't spoken to me since riding away. And yet, while my heart has been struggling to even beat, she'd had this whole conversation with Allie? Why not to me? How does that make any sense? Well, I guess it did make more sense after today. More on that later, though.
As hard as it was to hear, Allie's instincts were right as usual, and I'm grateful she told me. How could it not mean something to hear that Elizabeth, in her very own words, had called me "impeccable?" And apparently it didn't stop there. Allie was practically bubbling over telling me that Elizabeth also told her I was a very good man and one of the finest Mounties she's ever known. I haven't asked Allie outright, but I think she's still hopeful that things might work out between me and Elizabeth. I'd be lying if I said a part of me isn't still praying for that every night, too. Anyway, back to "impeccable."
I have to admit, after Allie went to bed, I looked up the word in our dictionary. I'd known generally what it meant, like admirable. But, I needed to see in writing what Elizabeth thought of me, as if it might feel more real. She'd only ever tell the complete truth to her students. So, if she'd been willing to tell Allie that I was impeccable, then I knew it came straight from her heart.
First, I noticed the synonyms. Ideal, irreproachable, flawless, and even perfect.
I sat for a while with the dictionary open, reading and re-reading those words. That was beyond what I'd thought the word meant. Still, I trusted that Elizabeth knew the word well. She's a teacher after all, and a writer. I'm not perfect, though, which she knows, or any of those other synonyms. But, to fall asleep last night …
Nathan stopped abruptly, shaking Elizabeth out of her focused concentration. She looked to him instantly, wondering why he'd paused.
"I'm sorry, 'Lizabeth," he apologized. This is longer than I remember. Maybe this was a bad idea." He lowered his eyes, feeling frustrated he'd picked an excerpt during a time he'd felt so confused and hurt. Scanning this journal entry before their date he'd now quickly realized was far different than reading it aloud beside Elizabeth, herself. It definitely felt more negative than he remembered.
Elizabeth gently turned Nathan's face to meet hers, her touch soft yet insistent. "Nathan, I know your heart. I want to hear whatever you have to say, now or then. At the very least, it will always help me understand you better."
Although to her these words from years back were definitely crushing, being together now helped her more resiliently endure these glimpses into the past. It was important, too, in gratitude for their future, to reflect and see some of the good that was indeed present along their bumpy path.
As she noticed Nathan searching her eyes, she hoped he could feel her sincerity. Gesturing to the rocks and the sky, she assured him with a touch of teasing, "I'm not going anywhere, and we certainly have the time." Then, looping her hand through his arm and resting her head on his shoulder, she added, "But, if it's starting to feel too personal, I understand."
"No, it's not that," Nathan replied, though he did feel the weight of being so open. "In a way, it's just sobering where we were, isn't it, that we weren't always here?"
"I know what you mean," Elizabeth agreed, recognizing Nathan's "here" was figurative. She lifted her head from his shoulder to find his blue eyes, needing to understand more of what he was feeling. "But it's as you said. Our love was there for each other all along. We just didn't get to feel it all the time."
Nathan let out a relieved sigh, a faint smile crossing his lips, grateful that her view wasn't completely clouded by their struggles. "That's really what I wanted to show you with this journal entry, that even in our hardest moments, your being there in the way you could really mattered to me."
"I'm looking forward to seeing where this goes, then," she said with genuine affection. "So, by all means, keep reading," she said, a loving twinkle in her eye. "I don't want to miss the best part."
"Even if it means wading through some more of the hard stuff?" Nathan asked with hesitation.
Elizabeth shrugged her shoulders as if in surrender. "I think we've both lived enough life to know it's never all sunshine," she said with a wry smile. "But at least the storms are better weathered together."
As if to prove her point, she lifted Nathan's arm over her once more before circling around him with her own arms. "I'm not sure why I didn't think of this before!" she announced, snuggling in closer. "Now I can squeeze you tight during the hardest parts."
Nathan chuckled, the levity returning to his voice. "You might as well start now." He felt the strength of Elizabeth's embrace, which really did help, knowing he'd be reading about some of his oldest wounds.
Author's Notes:
Read on to Chapter 20: Perfect for Me as a part of this multi-chapter release. Thank you for reading. As a continual note, these characters are from Hallmark's "When Calls the Heart." Any dialogue from previous episodes is italicized, though those sentences or phrases are always fairly short. In the case of this chapter and next, a large amount of the content is italicized to note the shift in and out of Nathan's journal entry.