Summary: Elizabeth sprains her wrist and needs her hair washed. Post-S12, set in Cape Fullerton.
Author's Note: Hilariously, I was inspired by a meme that ghostwriterheartie sent the group chat that said "I know you like a one bed trope, but what about when he washes her hair?" And I set out to figure out how to accomplish just that.
This is what I suspect will be the first in what I am uninspiringly calling The Cape Fullerton Collection, which modeled after my Jack Thornton Cliffhanger Collection, will fill the hiatus with stories of our favorites as they navigate Cape Fullerton as a "family." There will likely be a very loose plot, but the point of the stories is to focus on moments that drive the characters forward - like within this fic.
I will also say here - I'm perfectly content with the ending of S12 and actually see no rush to get these two married. There are a lot of signs in episodes 11 and 12 that the time jump was not exactly the best of times, and their romantic relationship suffered a bit for it. And being the contrarian I am - I want to lean into those themes and explore the not so joyful moments between them, too. I don't suspect they will address marriage until they get home to Hope Valley, and neither will I (that doesn't mean I won't address the hurdles they will face being unmarried either).
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She had never been more frustrated in her life. Last week, she had tripped over a loose cobblestone on the sidewalk, fallen, and landed on her right wrist, spraining it.
Everything just took extra time and effort because she couldn't use her right hand with the splint.
Especially taking care of Jack's daily insulin doses - the insulin clinic had changed his dosage to twice a day, which had stabilized his blood sugar a lot better than one dose a day had previously.
Luckily, there was usually someone around in the boarding house she trusted to help administer the shots, either Nathan or Charlotte.
But taking care of herself was also an issue. Bathing was difficult, but possible, making sure to keep her dominant arm as dry as possible. However, her hair hadn't been washed since before the fall.
She looked at herself in the bathroom mirror and sighed, upset at how her hair hung limply and clearly in need of a good wash. It didn't help that her face was so pale or that she had dark circles under her eyes. She looked like a disaster.
But she had planned poorly as Charlotte had left a couple days ago to help a friend in a neighboring town set up her own boarding house, knowing she didn't have any boarders coming or going for the next few days. And she would never ask for help from any of Charlotte's residents - of which there was only one currently, a young woman named Evelyn - as she barely knew them.
Nathan had also sent Allie back to Hope Valley on the train that morning, wanting her to spend some time with Angela before she left for Hamilton. It had been a small battle, as the girl felt like she couldn't leave them here in Cape Fullerton, but Elizabeth pointed out that she was sure Angela was missing her equally and could use her friend before going off to a new city.
She took a deep breath and just accepted the reality for now. She would have to wait for Charlotte to get back tomorrow or the next day.
She made her way down the stairs and towards the common room where she knew she would find Nathan. He always ended the evenings there, either catching up on the news or reading a book. She paused at the entrance of the room to gather what little confidence she had at the moment.
In the back of her mind, she knew she didn't need to worry. He had never wavered, from the moment he jumped into that cab he was there for her, no matter what. And he had been there through her illness in the fall, and through the many sleepless nights early on in Jack's illness. But she was tired and frustrated and knew she didn't look her best. All her conflicting feelings kept her from stepping into the room.
"Are you planning on standing there all evening?" he asked without looking at her, flipping the page of the book in his hand.
She smiled in spite of her tumultuous emotions and finally stepped into the room, stepping next to the chair he occupied. "How did you even know I was there?"
He looked up at her and raised an eyebrow. "While I may not be on active duty at the moment, I am a trained Mountie with excellent observational skills."
She gave him a rather skeptical look.
"And you aren't as quiet as you think you are," he said as he closed the book and set it on the end table next to him, so he could grab her uninjured hand and guide her to sit on the ottoman in front of him.
"It is rather quiet here tonight, isn't it?" she said as she sat down.
"It's only you, me, and Jack tonight. Evelyn left earlier today to spend the weekend with her grandmother."
Elizabeth nodded, taking in the information. An evening alone with Nathan? And she looked like this?
She couldn't catch a break lately.
She was surprised when he sat up and reached forward as he commonly did to stroke her hair or tuck it behind her ear.
And she flinched.
He pulled his hand back quickly, a look of concern falling over his features. "Elizabeth? What's wrong?"
She couldn't even help the tears from forming, so she closed her eyes tightly to stop them from falling. "Please don't."
"Don't what?"
She could hear it in his voice that he didn't understand and was worried about her.
"My hair…" she squeaked out, trying to hold back the tears.
He heard him breath out a quiet "oh, Elizabeth," so she opened her eyes to see him looking at her, with what looked like pity written across his face.
She must have given him some look that indicated she didn't want his pity, because he was quick to reassure her. "I didn't think about your hair - Charlotte said you were managing bathing."
She dropped her chin to her chest and nodded slightly. "I just can't wash my hair."
"I can do it for you."
Her head whipped up, and she caught the beginning of a blush rising on his cheeks, as he ran his hand through his own hair.
"That is…I mean, if you want me to." He shrugged. "I used to do it for Allie when she was little."
The image of Nathan washing a little Allie's hair came to the forefront of her mind and she smiled. Sometimes she forgot all that he must have done as a single father figure to a little girl.
"Okay."
His eyes lit up the same way they did anytime she let him help her. He stood and pulled her up with him, pressing a chaste kiss on her lips, and then guiding her out of the room.
"Why don't you go upstairs and get into your nightgown and robe while I get set up in the kitchen?"
"Nathan," she said skeptically. "I don't know if that's really appropriate." She never left her room unless she was fully dressed, unlike Charlotte and the other boarders who would wander around in robes for breakfast and before bed.
He rolled his eyes. "Elizabeth, I've seen you in your nightgown and robe plenty back at home. And it's just us here." He smirked at her, "Not to mention, I've seen everyone else here less dressed than you at breakfast, despite the fact that we are the ones courting."
She crossed her arms, raising an eyebrow at his impertinence, but her own smirk gave away that she wasn't actually mad. "I think that alone speaks to why I shouldn't."
He shook his head exasperatedly as he pushed her towards the steps. "Just go. You'll be more comfortable. I promise."
She hesitated for a moment, but his earnest smile propelled her back up the stairs to change.
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She stepped into the kitchen to find he had set up a chair and a couple of bowls waiting for warmed water on the table, along with a few towels.
She admired him as he checked the water on the stove to make sure it wasn't too hot. He had rolled up the sleeves of one of his many blue shirts and was currently dipping one of his elbows in the water.
He must have heard her walk into the room again, because he quickly turned and smiled at her, indicating that she should sit in the chair he had turned to face away from the table.
She sat, smiling back up at him as he approached her, draping a towel over her shoulders to keep her dry. Then, he rolled a couple towels to place under her neck.
"You sure know how to make this comfortable," she joked.
He huffed out a laugh. "Allie's hair used to take forever to wash. She was always so wiggly and it was always so tangled because she would wear it down outside all the time." She caught the look on his face as he was clearly remembering. "The number of leaves and sticks I pulled out over the years was absurd. I was so grateful for the one mom who showed her how to braid her hair as it saved us a lot of pain and suffering."
They laughed together as he gently guided her to lie back on the towels. However, their laughs died down as he reached over and with both hands gathered her hair to place it in an empty bowl.
His face was inches from hers.
He froze for a moment, both of their eyes darting to the others' lips, as one of his hands slipped from her hair to cup the back of her neck. She tipped her head toward his just slightly, and it was enough to spur him to capture her lips with his own, kissing her slowly and sensuously.
He pulled back and she opened her eyes to find his still closed, his tongue darting out to lick his lips as if he wanted to keep tasting her.
He opened his eyes and she was reminded all over again of the depths of this man's devotion to her.
A ghost of a smile graced his face as he stood up and turned to get the water from the stove, carefully bringing it to the table. He tested the water one more time, before he grabbed a smaller bowl and began scooping water into the bowl with her hair, letting the warm water course down her rich brunette waves.
She sighed in delight and closed her eyes.
"Is the water temperature okay?" he asked quietly, recognizing her relaxation and not wanting to disturb her.
She nodded and he continued adding water until the bowl was about halfway full. Then, he focused on making sure her hair was sufficiently wet by reusing the water from the larger bowl and scooping it with the smaller one, while using his other hand to manipulate her hair.
Once he was content with how wet her hair was, he grabbed the bottle of shampoo and applied a generous amount to his hands.
And she was pretty sure she didn't remember much after that, except that his hands were massaging her scalp and she was feeling positively blissful.
It had been a long time since anyone other than herself had washed her hair.
At one point, she did remember opening her eyes to watch him, and she was taken aback by his dedication to the task, his face serious and his tongue slightly peeking out of his mouth as he concentrated deeply.
But then his eyes met her own and the moment became supercharged. His movements slowed, and were more deliberate, his gaze never leaving hers.
She wasn't sure how long he lathered her hair, but it was much longer than necessary.
Not that she was complaining. It was the most intimate moment she had shared with him in quite some time. Since Jack's diagnosis.
It was somehow more intimate than some of the conversations they had, or even some of the evenings early in their relationship that he left her breathless with his kisses. And all he was doing was washing her hair.
The two of them had lost their way a bit, in the turmoil, and just when she thought they could breathe and regroup, they found themselves here, in Cape Fullerton of all places. But maybe this was what they needed, a moment alone together.
She was beginning to think her sprained wrist might be a blessing in disguise.
Eventually, he recognized the need to rinse her hair. He released her curls, holding his hands away from his body, as they were coated in suds, and she giggled as he dramatically grabbed a towel to wipe them clean.
It amazed her how seamlessly they shifted to joking and laughing in moments like this.
He prepped another bowl with clean water and seamlessly transferred her hair from one to another, again pouring water from a smaller bowl onto her head to rinse out the shampoo this time.
He switched out the water a couple of times, each time taking the dirty water to the back door and dumping it outside. Eventually, he was content with how clean her hair was, and leaned over, pressing a kiss to her damp forehead, before grabbing a dry towel to wrap her damp locks in.
She wasn't sure she had ever felt as cherished as she did in this moment.
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Charlotte entered the house quietly, afraid to wake anyone that may have been in bed. She had decided to come home earlier than expected as she suspected Elizabeth was probably getting more frustrated with her sprained wrist as the days passed.
She did not expect to walk past the kitchen and see Nathan bending down to kiss Elizabeth's forehead after what appeared to be him helping her wash her hair.
She still wasn't exactly sure what to make of Nathan Grant.
It wasn't that she exactly disliked him - he had been perfectly cordial from the moment they met. But maybe she disliked the idea of him. She didn't want Elizabeth to lose someone else the way they both already had.
And she hadn't been exactly certain of his motivations. She knew he and Jack were connected in some way, as Elizabeth had alluded to it one night when her inhibitions had been loosened due to exhaustion, but exactly how she wasn't sure.
But he was always where Elizabeth or Little Jack needed him to be, no questions asked. And he clearly was a good father, as Allie was a respectful and helpful young lady.
However, it wasn't until this moment that she caught the look on his face as he wrapped Elizabeth's hair gently into a towel and guided her into a sitting position, that she realized the depth of his feelings for her daughter-in-law.
That he was a man deeply in love.
She attempted to creep slowly past the doorway to the kitchen, but he looked up and caught her.
A moment passed as they sized each other up, Elizabeth remaining unaware of the interaction as she adjusted the towel on her head.
He stared at her, almost daring her to say something, to interrupt.
But she had nothing to say.
She nodded her head once.
He followed suit and returned his attention to Elizabeth, drawing her attention to him.
Charlotte did catch the smile on Elizabeth's face. One she hadn't seen since they'd arrived in Cape Fullerton. One she hadn't seen since Jack.
She quietly ascended the stairs, letting the two have their moment, which now involved the tinkling sound of Elizabeth's giggles echoing through the quiet house, feeling like the weight over her heart had been lifted a bit this evening.
