His Forgotten Fiancée (Love Inspired Historical)

by Evelyn M. Hill

  “Women doing manual labor,” he muttered.

  “Life in the West,” she replied.

  She piled up the firewood next to the cabin door. “There’s still a little time before Pa has supper ready. We need to take a walk.”

  She wasn’t sure if it was something she had said that had plunged Matthew into gloom or if this was one of his dark moods. In either case, she needed to put things right between them. Or at least she needed to try.

  He piled his stack of wood next to hers, and they set off down the hill. There wasn’t enough light left to go up to the little clearing, but they could at least walk down to the pool. Matthew walked at her side without speaking, his hands clasped behind his back.

  Liza cast a sidelong glance at him. His expression looked remote, his thoughts far away, somewhere dark. He used to fall into moods like this from time to time while they were on the trail. The best way to deal with the gloom was not to try to cheer him up, but to stay nearby. He just needed to know he was not alone.

  “What are you thinking?”

  “I was just remembering Vince. He was a friend I made in California.”

  “Another memory has come back.” Liza would have been more cheered by this news if Matthew hadn’t seemed so sad about it. “What did you remember?”

  Matthew hesitated. Then he went on, the words coming reluctantly. “Vince was my partner. I met him in Dutch Flat and we hit it off, so we teamed up. We did well, for a while. Struck it rich, found a vein that made us a lot of gold. We were bringing it into town when these men jumped us.”

  The words tumbled out of him unbidden, almost as if he were reliving the nightmare. “They took everything we had, except for the nugget I’d hidden in my boot. Just enough gold for a couple of rings.” He cleared his throat. “I was knocked out, and when I came to, everything was gone. There was just Vince lying there bleeding in the dirt. It took me a while to find a doctor. I carried him through the town, just as it was getting dark, never knowing if the robbers were going to catch up with us and finish the job. Finally got him to the doc, but I was too late.”

  She stopped walking. They were just at the edge of the cornfield, where the ground began to slope down toward the stream. He stopped with her and turned his head inquiringly.

  “You do know that it wasn’t your fault, don’t you?”

  He raised his eyebrows. “Do I? What I know is that I was too late. Vince died. If I had gotten him to the doctor sooner, he might have lived. Yes, I know, he might have died anyway. I’ll never know now. There might have been a chance.” Something in her face caused him to smile, just a little. “I am not very good company sometimes. I can’t help it. That’s how I feel.”

  “Never apologize for being honest.” She tucked her hand under his arm and nestled against his shoulder. He froze. She could feel his heartbeat beneath the thin linen of his shirt. Her own heart was beating like a jackrabbit in full flight. He was warm, smelling very slightly of sweat and cedar.

  She straightened up. She had reached out to him on impulse, to ease his pain. She could not stand there and witness his suffering without doing something. He mattered too much. A friend could do that, couldn’t she?

  She hadn’t expected that holding him like this would give her a strong sense of contentment. For a moment, she even dared picture a life with him, chasing young children with dark eyes all over the valley, watching them climb trees and train kittens... When she drew back from him, she was still smiling. She could not help it. She could so exactly picture what his children would look like.

  “What on earth are you smiling at?” He shook his head at her. “Women. I will never understand women.”

  “Come on.” She tugged at his arm. “Pa’s going to give our supper to the kitten if we don’t get back.”

  * * *

  Matthew walked back to the cabin with Liza. It felt natural to walk like this with her, side by side, just as they had on the trail.

  Just as they had on the trail.

  He stopped dead in his tracks.

  This wasn’t a door opening in his mind. This was a floodgate. Memories swirled through him until he was drowning in them. And all of Liza: sitting there in the middle of that shallow stream, soaked to the waist and not even caring, just laughing up at him as he called her a tenderfoot. Stretching her hands out to him as they danced with a full moon lighting the snowy mountains somewhere in Wyoming. Sitting beside him by the campfire while he told her stories of his life back east. Liza. By his side all those days and weeks as they had crossed the continent together. Of course he loved her. He had always loved her, with every ounce of certainty in him, this woman who walked beside him.

  Liza looked around and caught him staring at her. “What’s wrong?” He shook his head, too full of words to speak. He didn’t know where to begin to explain the emotions swirling through him. She blushed a concentrated red. “Sorry. I did not mean to pry. You have the right to your privacy.” She walked back to the cabin ahead of him.

  He had done that to her, made her reluctant to show any sign of affection toward him. Because she thought he didn’t care for her any longer. Or maybe it was her way of acknowledging that things were different now. They were no more than friends. He couldn’t blame her if that were the case, but he wanted her to give him a chance to make it up to her, to make things right between them. She thought he was offering to stay on merely because her pa needed his help. Had he been unclear, or was she trying to avoid any kind of romantic entanglements?

  Had he, yet again, come too late?

  The rest of the evening passed in a blur. Matthew ate the food put in front of him and answered when spoken to, but his mind was busy putting together the puzzle of his past. He did not have all the pieces. He did not remember leaving Liza at Fort Hall, or much about his life in California, but he had recovered enough of his memories to know that he could go forward. He could bare his heart to Liza, ask her to commit to him again. Not just let him stay on as a friend to protect her from people like Mr. Brown, but marriage. Settling down with him. They could build a little extension to the cabin, make it more of a home. Their home.

  He had to be careful, though. He had hurt her, first by leaving so abruptly and then again when he hadn’t recognized her when he came back. He couldn’t help what had happened in the past. But he could make sure he did not repeat his mistakes.

  He hesitated, and then decided not to tell Liza what he was remembering. Not quite yet. He needed to be sure she would welcome him back. He had planned to open his heart to her that night, to tell her all his feelings, before she had distracted him with that disturbing picture of Mr. Brown wandering onto the claim whenever the mood took him. And now he had to sort through this horde of returned memories. Could he use them to help him win her back?

  How had he wooed her before? It had all seemed so simple then, so natural. He had fallen back into the pattern of walking with her every day. That was a good start. He remembered telling her tales of his past life. But he suspected that she knew all of his tales by now. That wasn’t what had drawn her to him. What was it? He racked his memory.

  He was going to do things right this time. Prepare as if it were the most important court case of his life and choose his ground carefully. Sunday, after church, if Mr. Fitzpatrick didn’t mind spending a little more time than usual with his cronies, Matthew could take Liza for a walk in town, court her properly and tell her that he remembered the time they spent together on the trail. Yes. That sounded like a good plan.

  * * *

  Liza woke early the next morning. She felt clearheaded and refreshed. She knew what she had to do. She was being a coward, settling for friendship when she wanted more. The worst thing Matthew could do was say no, and then at least she would know where she stood with him. The best approach would be to let him know she wanted a chance for them to grow together, but not to make him feel forced or pres
sured.

  Shyly, she confessed this to Pa when she went down to make the morning tea. Matthew was still in the barn, and they were alone. “After the service today, I thought I would tell Matthew...that I’d like him to stay longer. Spend the winter, at least. I know we had originally said he’d stay until the harvest was done, but I’ve changed my mind.” She summoned the courage to peer up at her father, but his face was noncommittal. “Do you mind? I know you said he’d hurt me, but I still want to try to make things work out between us.” She half smiled. “I understand if you need to tell me I’m a fool.”

  “Aye, you’re a fool, my daughter.” His arm came around her in a quick hug, and then he stood back and looked down at her. Despite his words, he was smiling. “But you’re the best kind of fool. I’m proud of you.”

  “Then it’s settled. I’ll speak to Matthew after church services today.” She went to fetch her fancy bonnet, the one with the blue satin ribbon. It always made her feel as if she were a horse with blinders on, but people said it flattered her. She wanted to look her best. This was going to be a special day.

  * * *

  After breakfast, while Liza went down to feed the chickens, Matthew drew Mr. Fitzpatrick aside for a private word.

  “After the service today, I want to ask Liza if she will marry me. I know that I don’t have all my memories back yet, but I do remember that I was not able to ask you for your blessing before I asked Liza for her hand. I would like to ask you now.”

  Her pa had the oddest look on his face. He coughed a bit, and his face was definitely red, as if holding something back. Laughter? What on earth could he possibly find funny in this situation? “Of course, I understand if you think I’m acting too soon.” Matthew understood nothing of the sort, but he was trying to be diplomatic He was sure the man was laughing at him. “What is the matter? Do you think Liza and I would not make a good match of it?”

  “No.” Mr. Fitzpatrick wiped his eyes and straightened up. “No, on the contrary. I think you and Liza are well matched indeed.” He slapped Matthew on the back. “Yes, it is time to ask her to marry you.” He hobbled off, leaving Matthew frowning after him. Well, at least that wasn’t a refusal. Maybe someday he would find out what all that was about. He went to harness up the horse.

  On the wagon ride into town, he noticed Mr. Fitzpatrick looking up and frowning. “Is something wrong?”

  “I don’t like the look of that sky. We’ve had a good streak with the sunny weather these past weeks. But the wind’s shifted to the west, and that usually means a storm is coming.”

  “Do we need to worry?” Liza asked, smiling. “We’ve almost got the last of the wheat in. Only another day of work and we will be finished. It doesn’t look like rain just yet.”

  “I hope so,” Mr. Fitzpatrick said heavily.

  All through the service, Matthew stood when the others stood, sang the hymns with Liza harmonizing at his side, sat and listened to the sermon. He went through the motions, but his mind was racing ahead to the moment afterward. The moment when he was going to ask Liza to agree to marry him—again.

  He knew what he wanted. There were times, this past week, when he had caught her looking at him. Not frowning, not smiling, just an intense look. As soon as she felt his gaze, she would look away. He had never considered her shy before.

  It had not been this hard to contemplate matrimony the first time he had proposed to her. Then, he had been full of confidence. Now he was full of questions. He had hurt her, badly. Too badly to trust him again?

  The service was over. Everyone stood up and began to make their way to the door. His stomach tightened. This was it.

  Outside the door, he took Liza by the elbow. “Could I speak to you? Somewhere a little quieter. Over by the Ermatingers’ house. There’s something I need to ask you.”

  “Excellent,” she said. “I need to ask you something, as well.”

  He stopped in the shadow of an elm tree. They were still within sight of the church, but they were out of earshot of the congregation chatting outside.

  Liza glanced behind Matthew and grimaced.

  “Is something wrong?”

  “Nothing really,” she said. “I saw Mr. Brown and Frank looking our way. Maybe we should go somewhere more private.”

  “I don’t think Mr. Brown will bother you any longer,” Matthew said. He took both her hands in his. “I wanted to ask you something. I wonder if you might consider...changing our agreement slightly.”

  “Very well,” Liza said. “What part of our agreement did you want to change?”

  “The part about it being temporary,” Matthew said. He took a breath. “Liza, I wonder if you would do me the honor of—”

  “Ah, there you are.” Frank came to a stop in front of them. “Excellent timing.”

  Liza’s eyebrows twitched together. “Frank, it’s lovely to see you, but this isn’t the best time for a chat.”

  “I’m not here on a social call, Liza.” Frank stepped aside, revealing a small, dark-haired woman standing behind him. “I’ve brought someone to meet you.”

  Matthew released Liza’s hands and turned to face the woman, frowning. “Have we met? You seem familiar, somehow.”

  “I should hope so,” the woman said. And then she added, “Darling.”

  Chapter Twelve

  Liza had never seen Matthew look so grim. His thick eyebrows were drawn together, and his dark eyes held no trace of warmth. If he had scowled at her like that, she would have taken a step back. The dark-haired woman just gave him a little smile, like a cat who had swallowed all the cream.

  Very quietly, Matthew said, “Why did you call me that?”

  She lowered her eyelashes demurely. “That’s what I’ve always called you, since our marriage.”

  Frank broke in. “Mrs. Dean—that is to say, this woman—came to see me after the service. She says she recognized you right away. And you remember her, too, seems like.”

  “No...” Matthew shook his head, then corrected himself scrupulously. “She looks familiar, but I’m sure that I never married the woman.”

  “It’s all right,” the woman soothed. She came a step closer, raising her hand as if to place it on his chest. Then she looked up at his face, the narrowed eyes and the lips compressed into a thin line, and her hand dropped to her side. “I don’t expect you to remember everything right away. It is something that you can remember me at all. The rest will come back, given time.”

  “I’m obliged for your kindness. Perhaps you could further oblige me by answering a few questions.” Now Matthew was the silken-voiced lawyer, softening his approach to set the witness at ease. “When did we first meet? And where?”

  “I met you on the Siskiyou Trail. My husband was a miner. After I lost him, you...comforted me.” The eyelashes swept down, and then she raised her eyes up to meet his, and she smiled. “You were very comforting.”

  “Indeed.” Matthew’s face was immobile, showing no emotion apart from the intense look in his dark eyes. “So, we met and decided to get married, just like that.”

  A faint chuckle escaped her red lips. “I believe you were concerned that we not anticipate our wedding evening. You gave me a lovely ring.” She waved it under his nose. “See?”

  “And I just happened to have a wedding ring with me, out in the middle of the wilderness?” Matthew asked quietly.

  For the first time, she hesitated. Then she went on, a touch defiantly, “Yes. You did.” She twisted the ring on her finger, tugging on it a little.

  “It looks a little small for you,” he observed.

  “It’s fine.” She could not quite control the grimace as she tried to push it farther down onto her finger. “My fingers are a bit swollen.” She opened up a little reticule looped around her wrist and peered inside. “I brought your ring, too...ah, here it is.” She produced a plain gold band. “You left
it with me so it wouldn’t get stolen. Here, I’ll put it on.”

  Liza watched in disbelief as the ring slipped easily over Matthew’s finger. The woman beamed up at him. “That one fits.”

  He looked down at the ring. “Yes,” he said slowly. “I remember putting this on.” His eyes came back up to look at the woman, and for the first time, Liza could see doubt in his eyes.

  She did not know what to think of the woman’s story. The woman did not seem mad or drunk. She was neatly dressed in an outfit of plum-colored velvet with black accents. Her black bonnet was lined with ruched lavender velvet with a braided black trim. She stood at ease, smiling a self-satisfied little smile up at Matthew. But Liza could not grasp the woman’s words. How could Matthew have possibly married her? He had been concerned with what he might have done while he was down in California. But not this. It did not seem possible.

  Yet as the woman told her story, her words planted a seed of doubt into Liza’s mind that began to bloom into a dreadful certainty. It could be the truth. The woman’s tale made a twisted kind of sense. Matthew was always so concerned with protecting women. She could see an unscrupulous woman taking advantage of his better nature, using his sense of chivalry to trap him into a marriage he did not want. And then, of course, he would feel obliged to come up to Oregon to tell her what had happened. That all fit in with what she knew of him. For one horrible black moment, she believed the woman’s story. Then she blinked and focused on the woman in front of her.

  Something wasn’t right here. She could not quite put her finger on it, but there was something about the woman. Some detail nagged at her. Perhaps it was her body language, the way she stood, leaning forward on her toes, the way she watched Matthew. She was too eager. Pushing him to believe her. She was not as sure of herself as Liza had thought at first.