A/N:

Hi Everyone. This is my contribution to the April 2025 Heart Story topic Unseen characters.

My Story, Stolen Dreams is the story of Clara and Peter Stanton. I know we hear of Peter Stanton and we see a photograph in the TV Series, but we never really 'saw' him in Coal Valley. I have incorporated Nathan into my story and I think the timing could (roughly) work. I do understand that what I have introduced, and what happens in later seasons don't match but I ask for some leniency from you all as you read. I also ask for forgiveness for being unable to stick the the word count (as usual) and appreciate 'nobody is counting'.

Thank you as always for reading and your ongoing support. Thank you to our wonderful admins who make these heart stories, and all our other wonderful content possible.

Jill

Clara glanced around the Cafe, checking the clock on the wall for at least the tenth time since she had arrived. The minute hand was dragging, and as she stared at it, she wondered if the second hand was even moving. Where was he?

"What can I get you, Clara?"

Clara glanced up at the woman standing beside her table, startled as she hadn't heard her approach.

"Could I get a pot of tea, please, Polly? I'll wait for Peter to arrive before I order."

Clara smiled up at Polly, the owner of the Cafe whom she had gotten to know from her frequent visits. Polly had taken a liking to her and Peter and tried to keep a table in the corner of the Cafe for them, allowing some privacy in the busy establishment. Its proximity to Hamilton railway station ensured it was always busy, and getting a table could be challenging. Clara and Peter had become regulars, and Polly was always happy to see her 'young lovebirds'.

Polly patted Clara on the shoulder as she turned to walk away, stopping as the sound of running feet caught her attention.

"Clara! I am so sorry I am late. I got caught up at the office." Peter gasped as he slid to a stop beside the table.

Clara's face lit up as Peter finally arrived; she had missed him so much while he was away in Coal Valley. It didn't matter that he was out of breath, and his handsome face was red from exertion; he was the most beautiful sight she had seen in weeks. As he dropped into the seat opposite her, he ran his fingers through his short, sandy-blonde hair, trying to smooth it into place before reaching for her hands and giving them a quick squeeze.

"How about I bring you both some water while you decide what you would like to eat?" Polly asked a maternal smile on her face for her favourite couple.

"Thank you, Polly," Peter said, trying to catch his breath, smiling fondly at the older woman.

As Polly slipped her order pad into her apron pocket and headed toward the kitchen, Clara watched Peter pull out his handkerchief, mopping his sweaty brow.

"I am sorry, Clara. I know we don't have very much time." Peter apologised.

"It's fine. As long as we're together now," Clara assured him, squeezing his hand. "Any time I get to spend with you is the highlight of my day."

"I wanted to talk to you about that," Peter said, biting his lip.

"Running late?" Clara asked, confused. "Or being the highlight of my day?" Clara teased.

"I wanted to tell you that meeting you has been the highlight of my life," Peter said. "From the moment we met, you are all I think about."

"When you knocked me off my feet?" Clara said, laughing.

Clara remembered their first meeting three months earlier when she had been on her way to treat herself to afternoon tea at this very Cafe. It had been an awful time in her life, and she had been despondent, wondering when, if ever, things would improve. Stepping onto the verandah outside the Cafe, she had been shocked when the door was flung open. A man tripped through the open door, hands full with a large bag of food. Unable to stop, his momentum carried him forward and he collided with Clara, knocking her to the ground.

Clara had landed hard and sat frozen on the cold ground, stunned by the impact, needing a moment to catch her breath. Peter had dropped to his knees beside her, apologising profusely; his food and the train he had been racing to board had been forgotten. When she was ready, Peter put a hand under her elbow and helped her inside the Cafe, insisting on getting her a glass of water. Clara allowed him to fetch her a glass of water, waving away Peter's repeated apologies, knowing it had been an accident.

Clara took the water gratefully, sipping it slowly, using the time to take stock of herself. The collision hadn't resulted in any injuries; she was just dirty, dishevelled and embarrassed for all the ruckus she was causing. Clara wasn't the type of person to call attention to herself, and since her father's long illness and recent passing, she had spent a lot of time alone.

Putting her empty water glass on the table, Clara tried not to stare at the young man sitting opposite her. She guessed he was around her age and was dressed neatly in a tan woollen suit, white shirt, dark tie, and long brown overcoat. His large leather satchel was covered in a fine layer of dust, left behind when he dropped it during their collision.

Peter interrupted Clara's musing when he asked her plans for the day and what, if anything, he had delayed her for. Clara explained that she had planned to have afternoon tea at the Cafe. Clara didn't share how much she had been looking forward to it or that it had taken her weeks to save the money to pay for it.

Peter insisted she let him treat her to afternoon tea as another apology for his careless actions. Clara had tried to decline the offer, explaining it wasn't necessary, but Peter would not be dissuaded. She watched as he hailed the waitress and ordered tea, scones, and pastries. When she heard him order two servings of everything, Clara realised he intended to join her.

Clara tried to hide her look of surprise but wasn't fast enough. Peter noticed, and she saw his cheeks redden slightly.

"I am sorry to presume, but I hoped to join you," lifting the crumpled paper bag containing his food up for her to see. Clara glanced at the bag, immediately noticing a dusty footprint on the outside of the now crushed bag. Whatever was in the bag was no longer edible. "I missed lunch today," Peter continued by way of explanation, a shy smile on his face.

"Of course, please join me," Clara said. "But I can't let you pay for my food."

"It's all taken care of." Peter grinned and said, "Besides, when I get home tomorrow and tell my parents about this, my mother would disown me if she found out I let you pay."

"Well, we wouldn't want that, would we," Clara laughed.

When Polly arrived with their order, they had become so engrossed in conversation that they barely noticed its arrival. When they started to eat, they lingered over their food, neither wanting to end their time together. Eventually, it grew so late that Peter knew he had to arrange another night's lodging, and Clara had to get home.

Peter hailed a taxi to deliver Clara home, accompanying her to the tenement house where she had been forced to move after her father's passing. Clara saw the look of concern flash across his face at her residence, but he was too polite to comment. Clara refused to allow him to walk her inside, urging him to remain in the Taxi.

Clara said goodbye before alighting from the Taxi and hurrying inside. Holding the door open, she waved one final time at Peter before turning and running upstairs. Her tiny, dank apartment was on the top floor of the five-level building, a less desirable floor than those on lower levels. Some evenings, when she got home from work, exhausted from her day, the thought of climbing up the stairs was almost too much. Clara barely noticed the stairs that night, distracted by thoughts of Peter Stanton.

Before they went their separate ways, Peter had asked her to meet him at their Cafe for breakfast the following morning, and she said yes. Clara knew she was playing with fire, agreeing to meet Peter again. It would be far too easy to become involved with him. He made her heart race when he smiled at her, and she couldn't remember when she had laughed so much or felt so carefree. Peter made her hope for things she had given up hoping for. Right now, her focus was surviving day-to-day and finding a way to pay off the debt owed for her father's medical care, not romance.

Clara knew she would have to find a way to make payments on her father's debt to Mr Fletcher. For now, he had been kind enough to let her take some time to grieve the loss of her last remaining parent. He wouldn't wait forever for her to repay the five hundred dollars for which she was now responsible.

Breakfast the following morning was full of fabulous food and endless conversation, ending with a promise for future dates when Peter returned to Hamilton. Their dates had continued and during his absence, they wrote letters. Clara never questioned why Peter had asked her to direct his to the mining company where he worked, accepting his explanation that their mail had been given priority in Town.

Despite her best intentions, Clara quickly fell for the handsome Peter Stanton. The more time she spent with him, the more she wanted to spend with him. Luckily for Clara, Peter felt the same way. As the two of them grew closer, Clara sometimes allowed herself the luxury of imagining a future as Mrs Clara Stanton, even though it couldn't happen.

There was a lot Peter didn't know about Clara's life in Hamilton. The more Peter spoke of his loving family, the less she shared about her life. How could Peter, who lived with adoring parents in a small, close-knit town, understand what it was like to be all alone? Peter had a bright future, with good prospects, where she had nothing.

"I want to talk to you about spending all our time together. Not having to worry about being apart."

Clara blinked, Peter's words bringing her out of her reverie and back to the present. Did Peter's sweet, loving words mean what she thought they did?

"What...what do you mean?" Clara asked, almost scared to hear his response.

"I didn't just get caught up at the office," Peter explained. "I went to the courthouse."

Clara stared at Peter in horror. During Peter's last visit to Hamilton, they had spent an afternoon wandering around Hamilton. As they passed the courthouse, a man and woman rushed out, surrounded by a group of cheering onlookers. It was evident they had just been married. Peter had tugged on Clara's hand, pretending he would drag her inside. Clara had laughed it off then but realised Peter must have taken it to heart.

"Clara, I love you more than I ever imagined I could love someone. I don't want to spend another day apart from you. Will you marry me? Will you let me spend the rest of my life making you happy?"

"No." Clara snatched her hand from Peter and reared back in her chair,

"Clara? What is it?" Peter was confused by her tears, having expected her to be excited.

"I'm sorry, Peter." Clara cried. "This is nothing to do with you. It's about me and my life."

Clara's lips trembled as she tried to control her emotions and sniff back her tears. Her heart ached as she stared into his eyes, seeing the pain and confusion her words had caused him. She hated that she had done this to him, to them.

"Talk to me, Clara," Peter urged desperately. "You can tell me anything. I want to help. Please, Clara. Together, we can get through anything."

Clara wrapped her arms around herself, trying to stop herself from shaking. Nothing helped. She needed Peter's arms wrapped around her. She wanted to press her cheek against his chest, listen to the steady beat of his heart, full of the pure love she knew he felt for her.

As though able to read her thoughts, Peter stood and took the seat beside her, pulling her into his arms and holding her tightly. Clara leaned her head on his chest, allowing herself to draw on his strength. When he held her like this, she believed his words, trusting it would be okay, that the two of them could overcome anything.

Peter gently urged Clara to let her head fall onto his shoulder as she relaxed into his embrace. Clara let out a shuddering breath, pleased her tears had stopped flowing. Peter stroked her hair, and Clara leaned on his gentle touch.

"Talk to me, Clara?" Peter whispered.

Clara's resolve crumbled at his gentle words, and she told him everything. Clara described her father's long, debilitating illness, telling Peter of the long hours he lay, weak and bedridden as his condition slowly worsened. Clara spoke of the medicine that eased his pain, but which cost more than they could afford as her father was unable to work. Clara talked of Mr Fletcher, who, at first, seemed like a kindly benefactor but was looming in her future, expecting her to repay the debt incurred from her father's illness and internment.

"I can't burden you with this, Peter. It is my father's debt, my debt to repay. I can't ask you to start your life owing so much money on behalf of a man you never even met."

"Clara. Don't you realise by now that whatever is happening in your life is happening in mine? I want to share everything with you. Good and bad."

Clara looked up at Peter through lashes still damp from her tears. She could see the conviction in his eyes and knew he meant every word he was saying.

"If I were in your situation, would you just walk away?" Peter asked.

"Of course not!"

"Then don't expect me to! I love you. Marry me, Clara. Spend your life with me."

Clara knew she should say no, but when she opened her mouth to explain again why it was a bad idea, she couldn't speak.

She loved him, and selfishly, she needed him.

"And you are truly sure, Peter?"

"I have never been more sure of anything in my life."

"Then yes. I'll marry you. I want nothing more than to be your wife."

Clara laughed as Peter threw his back his head and let out a whoop of delight. Reaching for her, he pulled her toward him and kissed her. Clara knew people were looking at her; this time, she didn't care.

"Let's try this again," Peter said, "Will you marry me?"

"Yes, of course I will."

"Good. Let's do it now!"

"Now?" Clara laughed at his enthusiasm. "Right now?"

'"I wish we could, but I bet we could organise it for tomorrow. We can get married at the courthouse and be husband and wife by tomorrow night."

"Okay. Yes." Clara said, delighted at the thought. "And after tomorrow night, what will we do? My home is ..." Clara trailed off, not wanting to say much about where she lived.

"We will stay at the Hotel." Peter declared. "I will let the Manager know my wife will be joining me and we can stay there until it's time to go home to Coal Valley."

Clara should have felt nervous about uprooting her whole life, leaving everything she had ever known, but she wasn't. She felt nothing but excitement. Okay. That was not strictly true; she was nervous about meeting Peter's family, especially his mother. Peter spoke with so much love about both his parents, and she was concerned they wouldn't accept her.

"Do you think we should wait? Should you tell your parents about me first?"

"No. I don't want to wait; I can barely wait until tomorrow." Peter reassured her. "My parents are going to adore you, Clara."

Peter and Clara held hands as he again described Coal Valley to her. He talked about his parents along with other significant townspeople. Clara sometimes felt she knew the people. He spoke of them so often and kept her up to date on their lives.

Clara knew Peter had concerns about his job in the coal mine. He talked to her about it once or twice, and it was more about what he didn't say that concerned her. She knew he and the other men in Coal Valley spent hours underground tunnelling for coal, and the circumstances were less than ideal.

During Peter's last visit to Hamilton, he gave her a document to keep safe. It was a report from a mine inspector. Noah Stanton, Peter's father, had requested it from Mr Sweeney when he inspected the Pacific Northwest Coal mine. Peter had told her his father wanted his own copy of the report so that if something ever happened in the mine, there would be evidence to show the issues Mr Sweeney found. Mr Stanton believed the mining company was taking shortcuts to increase profits, increasing the risk of accidents. The safety report was just one part of what Noah and Peter were doing to try to bring about improved safety and working conditions for the men working in the mine.

"You two look happy?" Polly said.

Clara smiled when Peter glanced at her, raising his eyebrows but saying nothing. Clara knew what his unspoken question was and nodded.

"The reason why we are so happy is that Clara has agreed to be my wife."

"Oh? You two! That's wonderful news," Polly exclaimed, throwing her arms around the two of them, hugging them tight for a moment before releasing them. "Let me bring you some cake to celebrate!"

"I hope that's the reaction we get from your parents."

"I told you; my parents are going to love you. Everyone in Coal Valley will."

Clara was saved from responding by Polly's return from the kitchen with the largest slice of chocolate cake Clara had ever seen. Peter's eyes widened as Polly placed the cake on the table between them before handing them each a fork.

"Enjoy."

"We will never finish all this," Clara exclaimed.

"I am sure your young man here can."

"I will do my very best. You know Polly, this cake looks almost as good as the ones my mother makes. She is a fantastic cook. Her desserts are the best."

"I will take that as a compliment, Peter," Polly replied.

Peter always bragged about his mother's cooking, and Clara and Polly knew this was high praise for him.

"So, Clara," Polly said. "When are you going to start planning your wedding? You could have your wedding supper here; I would love to do something special for the two of you."

"I don't think there is time to plan anything, Polly. We are getting married tomorrow."

"Tomorrow! But how? Why?"

Peter explained their plans to Polly as the older woman stood by with a look of concern on her face.

"I understand you don't want to wait, but what about a dress, Clara, and flowers?"

"I hadn't thought about it," Clara admitted with a shrug. Marrying Peter had been all that went through her mind. She didn't own many clothes, and she had made those she did own. She was more than competent as a seamstress and could make something suitable if she had time.

"When you have finished your cake, this young man can make himself scarce, and you can come on back with me." Polly glanced at Peter, her tone firm, letting him know there was no point arguing. "My daughter is married and has left home, but she might have left something behind that would suit."

Other customers required Polly's attention, so she left Peter and Clara to enjoy their cake while she tended to them.

"I could use the time this afternoon to make the arrangements," Peter said. "I was going to have you come along, but it sounds like you will be busy for a while."

"It is wonderful of her to offer; I can't say no."

"I know. You can trust me to organise everything else."

Clara nodded, spooning another bite of the delicious cake into her mouth. If Peter's mother's cooking was better than this, Clara would enjoy being in Coal Valley.

Peter stood before the mirror in his room at the Hotel, inspecting his appearance. He looked at his hair; the part down the side was perfect, and his hair stayed put for once. His eyes slid down to his suit and tie, then to his white button-down shirt which was clean and crisply ironed. Peter looked down at his lapel, smiling at the simple white flower Polly had given him. Polly had insisted on surprising Clara with a bouquet to carry and had given him this matching flower.

Peter had offered to collect Clara from her home, but she declined. She was meeting Polly at the Café, and they were walking to the Courthouse together. Clara was getting ready at the Café and Polly was escorting her to the courthouse. They would have one friendly face at least to witness their union.

Peter thought he would be nervous, but there were no nerves, only excitement. As he lay in bed the previous evening, he felt a twinge of guilt that he hadn't told his parents about his wedding, or Clara, for that matter. He wasn't worried about Clara getting along with his parents. He knew his parents would fall in love with Clara the moment they met her, just as he had. He hadn't told them because he knew they would have asked him to wait, and he didn't want to.

Peter knew they would say he and Clara were too young to get married. He understood their concerns, but he knew Clara was the only one for him. Knowing that Clara was the one it seemed silly to wait just so they were older. Peter also hated where Clara was living in Hamilton. He didn't need to go inside her tenement to know it wasn't a suitable place for her to live. Marrying now meant he could take her home to Coal Valley and away from there.

Glancing at his watch, Peter smiled. It was time to head to the courthouse to marry the love of his life.