When Calls the Dream

From One to Another

Little Jack is asleep. His whimpers had come to a gradual halt as we all made our way back into town. Bill drags Wesley into the jail, Nathan hobbles along side me in the direction of the infirmary. Bill is to ring the church bell when he is finished securing the prisoner. Nathan would have phoned headquarters right away, but no one is at the switchboard.
The darkness is almost suffocating, until muscles in Nate's weary hands quiver in attempt to light a lamp.
Our lanterns were lost in the mines, and we had to fumble our way out in the dark. I feel for the bed with my left arm with Jack in the other. Lights float across my vision in the dark, and my head feels as if I dipped it in ice water. I cling to Jack, unwilling to let him go. He could rest on the bed, but I cannot bear to let him from my sight. He sleeps so soundly anyway; he knows that he is safe.
"Nyrah?" It is now that I realize that Nate has lit a lamp in the corner, and I had been staring down a wall. "Jack is safe, I am safe, and...you are safe too."

"My answer is no."

"What are you talk-"

"I don't think we should be courting." The embers of concern in his eyes hiss and steam in the rain of my refusal. His expression turned into one of deep concern into deep agony. All in a silent and undetectable grimace. Nathan doesn't say anything, he merely offers to hold Jack, and although hesitant at first, I eventually cradle him in the Mountie's arms. When a few moments pass, he lays the boy down, and wraps a thin blanket over his shoulders. "Please...say something?" The command turns into a question. As cliche as it may appear, I never once wanted to hurt Nathan. I'm afraid that I should not have chucked the plan all that time ago. If Jude really is my half brother, then who knows when all of this will come to an end? I wish to rest and say that Jude is caught and everything can stay this wonderful forever. The ache in my chest tells me otherwise.

Nate entwines his fingers with mine, and traces the dry blood trail down my forearm with his thumb. It isn't a deep wound, but I watch as he checks just to make sure it isn't serious before Carson and Faith arrive. "Is your answer an indication that it can never happen?"

The response "I don't know"catches in my throat before I can voice it. So instead, I be honest with him and say, "I love you...I know you have already read it, but I need you to hear it too. I think I can safely guess that you and Bill heard what Jude Wesley told me. If what Jude said is true, and even if it is false, all of this isn't over. One day or even years could pass, but the end will be the same. He will tear me away from this world and my heart along with it...and yours."

Nathan sighs, exasperated. "Well, I guess we will have to choose our pain."

Puzzlement flashes over me. Is he referring to the pain of losing eachother versus the pain of holding back? "Ny," he continues, "I understand your decision and I respect it, but I won't accept that we love eachother for no reason."

I hold back a gulp, unsure of what he is implying. "I'll leave you alone, if that's what you want," he finishes. I nod, realizing it is for the best, even though I don't want him to leave me alone at all.

"I'm sorry, Nate." He takes a sharp inhale at the sound of the nickname I gave him. I squeeze his hand gently, ready to let go. "Do me a favor will you? Marry a beautiful woman someday who can be with you for a lifetime."

Aside from the confusing statement Nate made earlier, images from the dream I had of our wedding flash into my memory a second before the door caves in. The first is Elizabeth, her way paved by understanding townspeople. Clara and I share a glance; she is observant, as her eyes flick between the Mountie ane myself multiple times. All of Elizabeth's wailing and "Thank yous" blur together into one rancid stew in my brain. The bouquets. The music. The warm ember of joy. Did Jude give me those dreams or did my fears feed them? I leave everyone behind, refusing treatment again and ignoring Carson and his "doctor's orders." I need to be alone. Truly alone. Not filling the time up with busy tasks in my garden, which I do need to check on by the way, or people following after me to check on me. The night lights drift lazily into a void as my mind empties. The candle lit in my anger and emotions sputters until a trail of ghostly smoke curls up into my nostrils. It smells of coal dust and lilacs. One represents where my dreams came true, and the other is where my dreams came to an end. I'm surprised I have any dreams left at all. Maybe I don't anymore. Maybe that is why I wish to fall asleep in my bed and never wake up again in this moment.
I am not certain of how much more I can take. I accidentally killed my entire family at the age of four. A family which seemed so half-hearted toward my existence. I spent 14 agonizing years back and forth in the foster system. I was never adopted. I fought hard. I tried to get into a good college, but I couldn't keep my GPA high enough. I worked dozens of part time jobs at various times to stay afloat. I hardly had a decent apartment. It was overpriced and mold bloomed in each corner. That was soon before I met Sol. My life took a vibrant turn after that. She couldn't keep other peopl's secrets, and would always tell them to me. I never shared them again, but she would with her other friends like Hailey and Paige. Sol had a good job at a hair salon, and paid for our monthly Netflix subscription. I got fired at an ice cream parlor because they were downsizing staff and going out of business. I scrambled to look for another means of employment, but came up empty. That is, until I found a barista position at the Groggy Bean Lounge. I miss those simple days when I would boil up some Mac n' cheese or fry some sloppy sausages because that was what we had.
I miss the days before Sol discovered The Arrow and I chucked the tv remote at the TV when Jack died in When Calls the Heart. I miss them because they were simple. They were the most calm days of my life. Here in Hope Valley, even on my days off, I am surrounded by storm clouds of fear. I have Jude to blame for that.
I open the door to my home, ready to drop into the mattress, but then I discover there are still people living in my house. Fashion magazines are cuddling in the oddest of places. In the cracks of the sofa or or under my coffee table, they will have to go. I hate magazines. They clutter everything.
A few splotches of honey gleam over the surface of the dining table, and a large pile of dripping wet dishes are beside the sink. It looks like an attempt to clean them. An attempt. None of them will air dry at this point because they are all precariously stacked atop one another. I check in each of the two bedrooms, and I see Mrs. Black and her daughter fast asleep. They never joined in the search, and slept through it all.
With a sigh, I make my way downstairs again. The couch isn't inviting, but it is better than the floor. I carefully light a fire, and sit near the Hearth. I don't bother to wipe away the coal dust on my face and arms. I don't want to be an angry person, but a pang of hatred stabs at me for that man. If I have a chance, I will punch him right in the jaw and I hope his teeth chop off his tongue of lies.
The flower of orange and red in the fireplace transports me back to the red and blue lights of police cars and fire trucks. I had run in after them. I wanted to find mommy. And I did. I found her screaming and on fire. Daddy was under a pile of wood, unmoving. Peter and Lily yelled at me to fall down onto my hands and knees and get out. They were all trapped behind a door of thick smoke and flame. I stayed in an unscorched part of the floor screaming for my mommy until a fireman came and scooped me up. I don't remember much after that. My little world went black, and a glitch of stretchers and paramedics and ear-shredding sirens are now seared into my memory. I didn't have a single burn, but the smoke almost killed me I think.
The very idea that Jude kidnapped a child from his mother coils vomit up my throat, but I choke it down as best I can before I rush to the sink. All the sour contents of my stomach now in the basin, I pump some water into it to wash the nasty sludge away.