Dear Readers, this is my 5th story of Jack and Elizabeth. As always, you don't have to have read the prior stories to enjoy this one, but I think it makes it more enjoyable. If you haven't read the first four, they are: Vignette 1, Vignette 2 (The Cold Winter), Vignette 3 (The Test - Don't Fail Me Now), and Vignette 4 (Gypsy Woes).

Vignette Five – Blind Faith

Chapter 1

Elizabeth marked another possible weekend off her calendar. Between Jack's work, the school season, her parent's planned month long trip to England, and national holidays, the wedding was getting further and further away.

"How about the first weekend in October?", Elizabeth asked Jack, who was sitting next to her at the table.

Jack glanced at the calendar over her shoulder.

"It won't work. It's Yom Kippur"

"We're not Jewish!"

Jack laughed, "I know that, but Aaron and Doris are, and I want them at the wedding."

"Your friends, Aaron and Doris, are Jewish?"

"They're not deeply observant, but they won't be able to go to a wedding on Yom Kippur, and I would like them to be there. I have a much smaller guest list than you, just a few close friends and family."

Elizabeth knew that Jack was right; his guest list was less than a dozen, while Elizabeth's was easily ten times that many. Her father had insisted that his business associates be invited, and her mother had insisted that all friends and society club women be invited.

"Tell me more. I want to know more about all your friends", Elizabeth said to Jack. With the two of them living so far from friends and family, they hadn't met many people from each other's lives before Hope Valley. Well, unless you count Rosemary and Charles, and I think we'd both just as soon not discuss them right now, Elizabeth thought to herself.

"Well, you already know Paul and Sabrina."

"Is Doris like Sabrina?"

"In some ways. They're good friends, especially with Paul and Aaron both being assigned out of same office. They're both strong independent women, but Sabrina's more firm, and Doris is just really sweet; not a mean bone in her.

Refilling his cup of tea, Jack told Elizabeth about a day he and Aaron had stopped by Doris' family store when Aaron was courting her. A man and woman with a small child approached the counter to buy just a single can of soup. It was easy to see that the family was down on their luck. While the father counted out the meager change, Doris gave the child a cookie, and put another can of soup on the counter. She informed the man that the soup was half price that day because it was excess inventory they were trying to get rid of. Aaron and Jack knew for a fact that the soup wasn't excess inventory; they had seen Doris unpacking it minutes earlier.

Another time, Jack had seen Doris take a handful of apples from a bin and offer them to a mother with three children, telling her that the apples wouldn't sell because they were bruised, and perhaps the children could take them off her hands. Jack was pretty sure that there wasn't a bruise on a single apple; he was also pretty sure that the children hadn't had a good meal to eat in days.

"That's just the kind of person she is", Jack remarked, setting down his tea, and opening the newspaper.

"She sounds very nice, but she can't be good for business if she just gives stuff away", Elizabeth remarked.

Jack chuckled. "You sound like a Thatcher. Actually, she was wonderful for business. Men would go in that store every day to buy something they didn't need just to look at her and maybe get a chance to ask her to dinner."

"Is she that pretty?" Elizabeth asked skeptically.

"Yes, she is", Jack remarked.

"As pretty as Sabrina?"

"Actually, prettier. Doris is taller than Sabrina, and dark haired, and well, she's striking. She's probably the most striking woman I've ever seen. Really, really beautiful.

Hmm, that wasn't really what I wanted to hear, thought Elizabeth

"What about Aaron? He must be terribly handsome to marry someone as beautiful as that."

Jack laughed. "If you find short men with receding hairlines and ruddy complexions, handsome, then yes, he's handsome."

"Well how did he get someone as beautiful as Doris?"

"He's a really nice guy, . . . and according to him, love is blind. I might actually have a chance to visit them next week when I'm near Ottawa."

"Well, I'm looking forward to meeting them at the wedding. . . . if we ever pick a date."

"Assuming that your father ever approves of me."

"Jack, he will, you'll see."

"I'm not so sure about that."

"He just has to see you for the wonderful man you are. Even if he doesn't, I'm still marrying you. Nothing is going to get in the way", Elizabeth said emphatically.

"Well, in that case, let's pick a date", Jack said as he looked at the calendar again.

"How about that second Wednesday?", he suggested.

"Jack, it's a Wednesday. People don't get married on Wednesdays."

"I'm sure a lot of people get married on Wednesdays. I don't see why not. It's a perfectly good day. It comes around once a week, roughly 52 times a year."

Elizabeth looked skeptical at the idea of a Wednesday wedding.

"Besides, I met you on a Wednesday. Best Wednesday of my life, " Jack said casually.

"We met on a Wednesday?", Elizabeth asked in surprise.

"Uh huh", Jack responded as he went back to looking at the newspaper.

A few minutes later, Elizabeth excused herself to get another pen from upstairs. Reaching into her nightstand, she pulled out her journal and flipped to the pages from her early days in town. Elizabeth sat on the edge of her bed, reading her entry about her first few days of teaching, and of meeting Jack. She looked to the date and day of the week at the top of the page. My goodness, it was a Wednesday. She smiled at the thought that Jack had remembered that.

"Did you find a pen?", Jack asked innocently when Elizabeth came downstairs.

"I did"

"So was I right?"

"About what?"

"Was it a Wednesday?", Jack asked without looking up from the newspaper.

Good grief. It's a good thing I'm marrying this man. He knows me better than anyone. Elizabeth thought with a start.

"Yes, you were right. You, romantic you."

"It has nothing to do with romance. I'm a Mountie. It's my job to –"

"notice details. Yes I know." Elizabeth said cutting him off and finishing his sentence for him.

Moving aside his newspaper, Elizabeth sat herself on Jack's lap. She ran her hands through his hair, looking at his handsome face, as he grinned at her. "I had a feeling you were looking at your journal", he said with a chuckle.

"Constable Thornton, you have earned a kiss for being so observant, both now and on the day we met", she informed him, as she lowered her mouth to his.

"That should be two kisses", he murmured.

"I'll give you three if you stop talking", she murmured back, as she touched his lips with hers.

Jack moved his hands to the small of her waist and pulled her closer, deepening their touch. His tongue moved against hers as her heart started to beat faster. She made a soft gasp as he ran his fingers along her knee and then slowly opened the palm of his hand as he moved it upward pressing it along her thigh. She could feel his warmth, in his mouth, in her own mouth, in his hand through the fabric of her skirt. He leaned his head back as she moved her lips to his neck. She breathed in the scent of his aftershave, running her tongue along his the skin of his neck while his hand softly moved against her thigh, separated only by her thin dress. Missing the feel of her mouth on his, he moved his head and captured her lips with his.

When he finally pulled away, Elizabeth whispered provocatively, "that was only two", and reclaimed his mouth with hers.

"I think we need to pick a wedding date . . . really soon", Jack moaned when Elizabeth finished with the third kiss.

The next day, Jack came from the livery stable carrying a small bundle of fur. As Jack pulled its claws out of his jacket and attempted to hand it to Elizabeth, he explained that his horse had almost stepped on it. Jack himself had almost stepped on it several times; it was so small and dark that it had been hard to see it in the dimness of the livery. The small creature had insisted on following Jack throughout the stable, so he finally just picked it up.

Elizabeth immediately fell in love with the kitten, which was desperately trying to cling to Jack.

"It's adorable. What should we name it?", she asked.

Jack held up the kitten by the scruff of her neck, and looked it over.

"Well, she's coal black except for the white streak on her. Reminds me of a comet. . . . Not your drawing of a comet, which looked like a squid, but my drawing", he clarified with a smile.

"Let's call her Halley" he said as he handed the kitten to Elizabeth. "After the comet we saw."

"No, not Halley. . . . We'll save that for one of our daughters. We'll name this little kitty 'Comet'".

"What makes you think we're having more than one child and that we'll have some daughters?" Jack asked with a laugh.

"No reason. . . . except we have a 50 percent chance of a girl", Elizabeth said evasively. There is no way I am telling him about the gypsy's fortune telling until after we're married. He'll either be scared off by the idea of having six children, or he'll think I'm a nut case for believing her.

"Why don't we name the cat 'Halley' and our future daughter 'Comet'"? Jack suggested with straight face.

"Jack Thornton! We are not naming our daughter Comet!" Elizabeth said as she swatted him with her hand, making him chuckle.

Before leaving town for a week, Jack made a small collar for the kitten, which Abigail had banished from the Café. The kitten soon felt perfectly at ease wandering among the children's legs at the schoolhouse, with "Comet Thatcher Thornton" written on the thin strip of leather Jack had fashioned.

Jack had been gone for a week when the telegram arrived. As Mr. Yost handed it to Elizabeth, he paused uncomfortably as if he wanted to say more.

Not again. Mr. Yost's going to criticize Jack for sending an expensive telegram instead of sending a letter, Elizabeth thought.

"I know, Mr. Yost. A stamp is much cheaper. I'll be sure to mention it to the Constable when I see him next", Elizabeth said dismissively as she took the envelope. She thought it was sweet that Jack always sent her a telegram to let her know when he expected to be back in town after being going for more than few days.

Usually Mr. Yost doesn't deliver telegrams in person, she thought vaguely. In fact, the only time he delivers a telegram in person is when I'm nagging him or it's urgent. He must be bored at the store today.

Elizabeth, unaware of the look which Mr. Yost gave Abigail, sat down comfortably on the couch to read the telegram. Whatever was in Mr. Yost's look caused Abigail to stay in the room rather than check on the food cooking in the kitchen, where she had been going.

Pausing to take a sip of tea, Elizabeth casually opened the envelope and pulled out the telegram. Her eyes skimmed the paper, not understanding it at first. She stopped and read it again, before looking wide-eyed at Abigail and letting the sheet of paper fall to the floor.

Abigail quickly picked up the telegram and read it.

JACK INJURED. PATIENT AT OTTAWA HOSPITAL. HE DOES NOT WANT YOU TO KNOW. I THINK YOU SHOULD COME AT ONCE. SABRINA