Elizabeth shifted little Jack slightly under the mound of towels that enveloped him. The stove kept the upstairs rooms in the row house nice and warm in the Hope Valley winters, but she sometimes worried that he might catch a chill after his bath downstairs. His rosy cheeks and sweet smile told her he was fine as she kissed him and felt the warmth of his soft skin on her lips.

"You love your baths so much, don't you?" She snuggled her nose into his neck, smelling the light fragrance of soap and producing a little hiccup of laughter from him.

Elizabeth loved this time of the evening. After sending Laura off with her thanks, she could put aside schoolwork and the cares of the day and just be with little Jack. Lately he had been struggling out of Laura's arms when his mother came to the door, running on wobbly legs across the wood floor and into her arms. She never tired of feeling his sturdy and quickly growing body solid in her hands as she lifted him up. His joy at seeing her, his giggling cries of "Mama!" – these were the highlights of her day.

As she gently rubbed his downy blonde hair of the last of the bathwater, she passed the small table that held her treasured photos of little Jack's father. Standing alone, proud and solemn in his red serge, and again in uniform smiling at their wedding with the love of Hope Valley around them. The photo he'd taken of himself and Elizabeth in front of the mountains on the day he'd told her he was leaving for a new post. The last photo of them, taken on their honeymoon as they traveled together to Fort Clay and what was supposed to be a safe posting to train young Mounties.

She had journeyed back alone, full of happiness, steeped in the love they had shared, dreaming of a future when Jack would finally come home, and they could build their house on the hill and start a family.

Two months later Jack was gone, and now, a year and half since that horrible day, Elizabeth was surprised to find herself with a measure of peace. As she had written in her journal, more and more she was focusing on the joy she felt in Jack's love rather than the grief she suffered in his passing.

She could only admit this to herself – but Elizabeth had come to a realization as she grieved for her beloved Jack. She had seen him off so many times, spent so many hundreds of hours in worry, and endured sleepless nights filled with the terror of losing him. When the worst happened the grief consumed her, but at least there was no more fear. She wondered how she would get up each day, but she didn't scan the headlines with adrenaline coursing through her body. She cried at being robbed of their future, but gunshots no longer made her ask frantically where Jack was. She was numb, and the thing she could never share with anyone was that the numbness brought her some relief.

Jack would never have stopped fighting the good fight, nor would she have wanted him to. It was in his blood. He called it his destiny. Elizabeth knew that he'd never intended to fall in love and the fact that he cared for her so deeply caused a constant push and pull inside him.

In her grief, Elizabeth wondered at times if he was ever fully happy in either place – at home with her or out on the trail doing his job. He was always saying goodbye to something or someone he loved, and she felt as if she was always saying goodbye to him.

Still, their love was undeniable, and Elizabeth wouldn't trade one second of the time she'd had with Jack. It was complicated, and blissful, and terrifying, and the happiest she could ever imagine being. She didn't choose for it to be over, but it was. Now Elizabeth had to ask herself what the rest of her life held in store.

She looked at the perfect face just inches away from hers – and thanked God fervently again for the gift of this child.

Little Jack's eyes were closed now on her shoulder, his rhythmic breathing beginning to form into a soft snore. With her free hand Elizabeth reached out to the table and held up her favorite photo from the honeymoon. She positioned it gently next to her son's face. Their son's face.

She smiled, seeing the slightly wide-set eyes with impossibly long lashes and the strong nose that came from Jack. She could also see the rosebud mouth that was so much like hers, and the beginnings of a heart-shaped face very similar to her own in the photo. Their child was both of them.

Replacing the photo on the table, Elizabeth ran her finger along the frame and felt a fine layer of dust. How many times had she cleaned it since she'd placed it there? She'd thought for a long while that her heart would need dusting as well, but a revelation last spring had been the beginning of a path back for Elizabeth.

She was talking with Nathan Grant, the new constable in Hope Valley. They were discussing Nathan's niece, Allie, and her difficulty making friends in school.

"I believe she pushes people away before they have the chance to get close to her," Elizabeth said.

Nathan's brow furrowed. "Why would she do something like that?"

"To protect herself. If she pushes people away, she doesn't have to worry…"

As she was speaking, an understanding swept through Elizabeth and she paused, eyes fixed on Nathan but not seeing him. She was suddenly aware that she gave love to friends, neighbors, and her students; she loved Little Jack, her sisters, her parents, Rosemary, Lee, Bill, Abigail, Clara and Jesse. But that other kind of love - for a partner, a person to walk through life with, that part of her seemed to have been lost.

She finished her sentence about Allie to Nathan, but she knew now that she was talking about herself.

"If she pushes people away, she doesn't have to worry about losing them."

For a long time, Elizabeth had reconciled herself to the fact that she had been given one great love in her life and that asking for another would be greedy, even if she felt ready for it. It had taken her until now to understand that there was also a component of protecting herself from another loss. If she lost another love, she didn't think she could survive it.

From a small drawer below the photos, Elizabeth pulled out a letter. It was yellowing a little and had been folded and refolded so many times that the ink was wearing away in the crease. The letter from Jack was given to her by Abigail after he died.

She had often read the lines saying that he would always be with her and watching over her, but tonight her eyes drifted to another line. She had dismissed it as impossible since the first time she'd read it, but she had begun to allow the words in Jack's own precious hand to enter her thoughts.

"I need you to promise me one thing, Elizabeth. You'll open your heart to love again."

Before she could stifle it, a picture leapt into her mind. It was a Mountie in red serge, his hat smartly set across his forehead. His eyes were soft and slightly puzzled and the faintest of smiles tugged at one corner of his mouth.

But it wasn't Jack. It was Nathan.

"Oh!" Elizabeth whispered, fearful of waking little Jack. He stirred, and she quickly put the letter back into the drawer and moved over to the kitchen table where his pajamas were waiting. Gently, she awakened him with kisses.

"Isn't Mama the silliest thing, Jack? What is she thinking? Doesn't she know that Nathan Grant hasn't got the slightest bit of interest in her?" She laid Jack down in the towels and got him quickly diapered and dressed in warm flannel while cooing to him the whole time.

"We already tried that, didn't we? And Constable Grant assured us there was nothing keeping him here." Elizabeth raised an eyebrow and pursed her lips as she walked with Jack over to the stove to put another piece of wood in. She added, under her breath, "Though why he is still here is a mystery, isn't it?" She smiled and tilted her head at her boy, who was just thrilled by whatever she was saying, because he heard it as love.

Laughing softly to herself, Elizabeth nuzzled him and whispered, "I love you, little man." She smiled down at him, her eyes soft. "You are so very uncomplicated."

With little Jack happily playing with his blocks on the floor, Elizabeth began grading the essays that her students had passed in to her this morning. It didn't take long for her mind to wander.

Nathan Grant, Elizabeth thought. So many confusing, conflicting encounters with that man.

The touch in the library, where she'd felt something akin to an electric shock as their fingers met, and from his eyes she was sure he felt it too. Thank goodness Fiona had come in, or Elizabeth thought they might still be staring at each other in bewilderment.

She knew she disconcerted him, but she also had to admit that when Nathan was around, she had to concentrate more on making sense than was normal for her. For some inexplicable reason, Nathan was highly distracting.

Elizabeth reached her pencil out and toyed with the candle wax. She knew she'd be sorry later because it would make it impossible to write with, but she was confounded and didn't like the feeling.

Perhaps if she went through it step by step. Should she make a list? No. You're a smart girl, Elizabeth. You can figure this out.

So, there was the library. Even if he didn't feel the shock of our fingers touching – there was that look. It was too long, too intense to be normal. He was interested then.

At the Founder's Day Dance, Elizabeth had looked for Nathan but hadn't found him. She'd turned around and there was Lucas, standing alone while everyone danced around him. Lucas had done so much for Hope Valley in donating the library and Elizabeth's tender heart had clenched at seeing him alone. So, as his friend, she'd asked him to dance.

As Lucas turned her, she could see why she hadn't found Nathan. He was standing in the doorway to the saloon and had been hidden from her. The look in his eyes was one she would never forget. It had caused an actual pain in her heart.

Elizabeth left the dance soon after and made her way to Nathan's office. She intended to say that she had looked for him to ask him to dance, but as she impulsively crossed the street, Elizabeth realized she hadn't really thought through exactly how she wanted to say it. Nathan could be a little skittish sometimes, and she didn't want to make him uncomfortable.

So instead of going in, she simply stood there in the dark outside the window as he wrote at his desk by lamplight.

She watched him for the longest time, fascinated by the way he held the pen, the fingers of his other hand tapping on the desk periodically. She was paralyzed, disoriented by what she was feeling. He couldn't see her, and she couldn't move.

Elizabeth began to be aware of how very much she liked Nathan and how attractive he was. His strong jaw, kind smile, endearing awkwardness, the depth of his voice, how he towered over her but never felt overpowering, the way he loved and cared for Allie.

But thinking back on it now, Elizabeth realized that as her heart reached toward Nathan, her mind took over and moved her away. That one was my fault, she thought.

Perhaps it was because he sat at that desk that was Jack's not so long ago, or maybe it was the simple fact that Nathan was a Mountie.

Elizabeth remembered thinking that Nathan didn't deserve the heavy baggage she was carrying. And honestly, she didn't know if she could put herself back into that life of worry.

So, she had stepped quietly back into the street and had gone back to the saloon. She'd vowed to concentrate on being a friend to Nathan and Allie and to do whatever she could to help them with their transition to Hope Valley.

Elizabeth had been moderately successful in this wish, though she was intensely grateful that a person's actual thoughts could not be discerned by others. She admitted only to herself that she seldom thought of Nathan as just a friend.

As the days went by, Elizabeth came to expect that he would arrive after school most days to walk Allie home.

When she had no students to meet with, Elizabeth found herself miraculously ready to walk out the door when Allie did. Even if she lagged behind a little, Nathan would always stop and turn at some point and they would wait for her on the path.

That meant that a couple of days a week, the three of them would walk from the school to the row houses, and if any shopping needed to be done at the Mercantile, they would often do it together.

If they had a number of errands to run, they would pick up little Jack and Allie would push him in the stroller. Like her uncle, she loved to make faces at him and get him to giggle.

When Nathan had official business and no time to change, they walked with him in his uniform. As they strolled through town, friends and neighbors would smile at the familiar sight of Elizabeth and a man in red serge.

Most of all, they would smile because she was smiling. Laughing, teasing, her arm loosely around Allie's shoulder, Elizabeth leaning back to look up at Nathan, her eyes sparkling. She was happy again.

That was a good time, Elizabeth thought, rolling the tip of the pencil through the candle flame to melt off the wax.

Then it was Christmas and Nathan and Allie asked her to help them find just the right tree. They'd had the sweetest day together and Nathan had told Elizabeth that there was no place he'd rather be.

Hope is the thing with feathers… She'd recognized the flutters she felt walking through the forest with him, the times she'd looked into his eyes and seen something more than friendship.

As she basked in the joy of decorating the tree with Allie and Nathan, a word had come unbidden into Elizabeth's head: family. She could imagine the four of them – Allie as big sister to little Jack, she as mother to Allie, and she and Nathan…

The pencil was practically on fire by the time she pulled it out and blew on it to disperse the smoke. Get hold of yourself, Elizabeth.

When Nathan had leaned over her, tall and strong, to place the bird ornament at the top of the tree, the warmth between them was a tangible force as she felt the light touch of his chest on her back.

If this is supposed to be helping, it's not, Elizabeth thought. Perhaps I should have made a list.

It had surprised her, this feeling she'd thought was gone forever. There in the glow of the Christmas lights, Nathan's eyes told her that he'd felt it too, and again, she'd wondered if she should let him know what she was feeling.

But Nathan had been keeping a secret from her that day. Elizabeth could hardly bear the déjà vu of hearing him say he'd been given another assignment and would be leaving. When she asked him about the friends Allie had made, "That you've made," he said there was nothing keeping them in Hope Valley.

The tears that glistened in her eyes and the color that glowed in her cheeks had embarrassed Elizabeth. As she walked out of his office and onto the street she'd thought, This is for the best. I can't do this again.

In the month that had passed since Christmas, they had never talked about why he hadn't left Hope Valley.

Elizabeth assumed that he had done it for Allie, who was now one of the most popular students in school. It still stung every time she thought about what Nathan had said about leaving: It just doesn't seem like there's anything holding us back.

Elizabeth often wasn't ready to walk home with them these days, claiming that the new year brought the necessity of new learning plans and she had much to do.

She waved and smiled from her desk to Nathan at the door to the church each day. He spent most of the time looking at the floor before mumbling a farewell.

Sighing, Elizabeth recalled the early days with Jack and their on-again, off-again courtship. Love could be baffling and perplexing and so full of confusion – but the reward could also be magnificent, a way to know that we're alive. She came to the conclusion that all relationships were simply challenging, each in their own way.

In this case, Elizabeth surmised that she had clearly misunderstood Nathan's interest in her. She'd given him a chance to make a declaration, and even when she'd plaintively asked him if he'd miss the friends he'd made in Hope Valley – if he'd miss her – he'd been silent. The truth was that her pride was hurt.

The other truth was that she very much missed her friend. If he couldn't be more, she would have to find a way to live with that.

Without warning, Nathan would return to her mind at odd moments. How he sat a horse, confident in a way he never could be in conversation. How he'd looked on the stairwell in the saloon that night he'd come to her rescue. The softness and raw gratitude in his eyes as she'd told him that she wouldn't give up on Allie.

Elizabeth found herself thinking of his hands, strong and expressive - the hands that had painstakingly made the wooden plaque that now hung in the library.

Always do what you are afraid to do.

When she gazed at it from her seat at the library desk, it was like a gentle voice, speaking not just to her, but to Nathan as well.

In her best moments, she felt compassion for Nathan and the uncomfortable position she might have put him in with her interest. Mountie Jack Thornton was now a legend of sorts, and the bond between brothers was one of principle and loyalty. As Jack's widow, Elizabeth knew that she also held an honored place in the Mountie family, and Nathan would not want to overstep or assume.

Elizabeth smiled and her heart ached a little, remembering his stutters, the stilted way he spoke to her at times, the way he would suddenly turn and leave a conversation, the furtive glances when he thought she wasn't looking.

There is something there, Elizabeth thought. I can't be imagining it all. Maybe hope can still be the thing with feathers.

Elizabeth put aside the essays and decided she would grade them in the morning. Right now, she wanted to get down on the floor and build a castle with her precious boy.

He giggled in delight as she sprawled on the rug and began stacking the wooden pieces that Jesse had fashioned at the sawmill and given to Jack for his birthday. She held up a carved one for Jack to see.

"A turret, you say? Absolutely! Have I told you the story of Rapunzel?"

Jack shook his head enthusiastically and for the next half hour they played as Elizabeth told him the story of the girl in the castle with the long golden hair.

When it was time for bed, Elizabeth carried him upstairs.

Her mind returned inexorably to Nathan, and she spoke softly to little Jack on the stairs, "All will be revealed. Your Mama has a little problem with patience, sweet boy. We're going to work on that."

Jack smiled contentedly back at her with a wisdom in his eyes, so like his father's. For a moment she stopped and stared back, seeing the love there and knowing that not only God, but her Jack, was guiding her.

"Patience," she whispered again.