When Calls the Heart: Jack and Elizabeth's Reunion

Her Rescue

Nate pulled back the worn curtain at the window to look outside. He still hadn't shown up. Nate was getting bored. If this woman's husband didn't show up soon, he would have to do something to pass the time. He looked over Elizabeth with a greedy expression. She was still unconscious. The things he could do to her without her even knowing. Vengeance was sweet. He decided that if the mountie didn't show up within the next fifteen minutes, then he would take her for his own, and then just send her back to her husband, so that every time he looked at her, he was gonna see him. Nate smiled with triumph. Yes, that sounded like a plan.

Jack pressed his mount to go faster even through the thickness of the trees. The rest of the men were right at his heels. There was no way that any more harm, if there was already, was going to come to his wife. He swore to himself that he was going to do whatever it took to keep her safe. He had proved it time and time again through the past years, and tonight, he was going to continue to follow through with that promise. When they reached the cabin, Jack came to an abrupt halt and turned to look at his friends. "Fellas, remember. Our priority is Elizabeth. Make sure she is safe and to get her away from Nate as soon as possible. We have to be patient, and we have to be smart." After everyone nodded their agreement and understanding, they dismounted and headed for the cabin.

Elizabeth slowly opened her eyes and looked around the room she was in. She didn't know this place. Then she inhaled through her nose, and it all came back to her. The stale stench she had smelled while being tied up for hours until Jack had come to her and her sister's rescue. Then she remembered why she was here in the first place yet again. Nate Tolliver had escaped from prison. "Oh no. Please, God. No," Elizabeth whispered to herself.

"Oh yes, missy," Nate whispered behind her. "But I'm afraid you won't find God here. It's just you and me, at least until your husband gets here and I kill him right in front of you."

"I believe you already tried that last time, Nate. It didn't work," Elizabeth said. Nate stepped in front of her and slapped her across the face. She winced in pain, but she could take it. She knew that Jack was coming for her. All she had to do was wait. She watched Nate walk to the window and pull back the ripped up curtain. He smiled.

"Well I guess we'll have to see how it turns out this time, won't we?" Nate asked right before he pulled out his gun and pressed against her throat as he untied her with his other hand. He stood her up, walked her to the door and opened it. Passing over the threshold and onto the porch, he made the gun visible so that if any of Jack's men made a move against him, harm would come to Elizabeth.

When Jack saw the gun pressed against his wife's throat, the color drained from his face, and anger threatened to take over. He raised his hand to his men to let them know to not make a move against him. "Let her go, Nate. This has nothing to do with her. Your quarrel is with me."

"Well, mountie, the way I see it, if I have control over her, it means I have control over you. Although I didn't really expect you to bring so many men," Nate chuckled. "I mean, really. It's just you, me, and your lovely wife," Nate said as he dug his face into Elizabeth's hair.

Jack's hero side threatened to take over and champion Elizabeth and he took a step forward, but once he did, he heard the click of the gun. One twitch of Nate's finger and Elizabeth would be dead. Jack raised both of his hands and took that step back.

"That's better," Nate said. "Now get rid of your men."

"You know I can't do that," Jack replied.

Nate motioned for Elizabeth to sit down on one of the chairs, and Nate took out a cigar and lighted it while still keeping the gun pointed at her. When the cigar got really hot, he took it out of his mouth. "I'm sorry you feel that way," Nate said, and he tore the fabric from Elizabeth's shoulder and plunged the hot end of the cigar against her skin, burning her.