His Forgotten Fiancée

by Evelyn M. Hill

  “I am not your dear.”

  “You really expect me to believe that you are still planning to marry that man?” Mr. Brown’s voice rose in disbelief. “After he publicly declared that he was going to leave as soon as he could? I’m surprised he hasn’t taken off already, made off with all your valuables. He’s the sort. Mark my words, one morning you’re going to wake up and he’ll be gone, with no word or warning.”

  That sounded ominously like a threat, but she was not about to let him see any sign of fear. Mr. Brown was watching her avidly, lips parted. Odious man. She lifted her head and looked him in the eye. “If and when that happens, I will deal with it then. Excuse me. I need to speak to my pa.” She swished her skirts dismissively as she started to move around him toward the mercantile store.

  “Wait.” He did not lift his hand from her arm. Instead, his grip tightened like a vise.

  “This is outrageous. You will release me at once.” She kept her chin high, but her heart was beating faster now. For the first time, she had an actual sense of physical danger from this man.

  “Not until you have listened to what I have to say.” Mr. Brown stepped closer. Dots of sweat gleamed on his upper lip. She could feel the uncomfortable warmth of his breath against her cheek. “Do you think it’s easy, keeping my position as the Baron’s right-hand man? I’ve learned to stay on guard, make sure no one comes along who could take it away from me. I’ve learned to protect my reputation in this town. It’s in both our interests that this man leaves as soon as possible. If you permit him to stay on your claim, people will think you are going to marry him. This nonsense must end immediately. You cannot have misunderstood my intentions toward you. I am going to marry you. Not him. Me. You wouldn’t want anything to happen to him...the way it did your father.”

  Chapter Nine

  Dawson took Matthew aside. The tips of his absurdly long mustache drooped as he frowned at Matthew. “I didn’t want to say anything in front of Liza, get her hopes up or anything, but there’s a man who says he might know you. Dirty little miner called Petey, rough as they come. I picked him up last night for being too drunk and disorderly, put him in the cell overnight to sober up. This morning, he saw that poster I’d put up asking for information about you and recognized the sketch I drew. Says he knows you.”

  Matthew gave a backward look at Liza, but she hadn’t moved. She was still standing stiffly erect. Mr. Brown was saying something to her. He did not look as if he were threatening her; they were just having a discussion. Perhaps Matthew was overreacting. Even her pa wasn’t worried about her.

  Even so, it went against the grain to turn his back on her as he headed toward the jail. He would keep this interview as short as he could. “You’re keeping the man locked up?”

  “Law says he has to stay locked up until he’s sober enough to walk without stumbling. Truth is, I could’ve let him out earlier, but I didn’t want to risk him wandering off before I could track you down.”

  The jail was just a small, barred room in a shed down by the river. Inside a small man lay stretched out on the narrow bed, apparently asleep. The sheriff banged on the bars. “Wake up, you!”

  Petey opened one eye and peered blearily at the sheriff. “No need to shout,” he croaked. “I can hear you just fine.”

  “Well, wake up, then. Brought someone to see you.”

  The miner sat up slowly, swinging his legs off the bed, and eyed Matthew. Matthew looked straight back at him. He had no recollection of ever having seen the man before, but he didn’t place much stock in his memory at the moment.

  Petey squinted, looking Matthew up and down, then he turned to the sheriff. “Yep, that’s him. He looks different, being all clean shaven and such, but that’s the man I knew from Dutch Flat.”

  Matthew frowned. That name was familiar. Yes. He had been there. A rough mining town in the Sierra foothills. He could almost remember... His fists clenched, as if he could physically pull the memories from the back of his mind.

  “How do you know him?” Dawson asked.

  Petey shrugged. “We was coming up on the Siskiyou Trail. I was looking to find some more gold, so I took the Yreka cutoff. He said he was coming straight up here. Said he was done looking for gold. He was fixing to get married.” The man eyed Matthew. “Some pretty little thing. Said her hair was all the gold he needed.”

  “How poetic.” Dawson’s mustache twitched as if hiding a smile.

  Matthew ignored him. He had gained one more nugget of information about himself. He wasn’t married. He wasn’t married. It was one small piece of the puzzle that was his past, but somehow it felt earthshaking. He was free to stay on the claim if he wished—and, more to the point, if Liza wanted him to.

  Petey added, “I finally decided to give up on looking for gold and made my way up here. That reminds me. Carter—remember him?—I ran into him down in Salem on my way up here. He mentioned you, something about a letter. He’s probably still down in Salem, if you need to get a hold of him.”

  Matthew nodded his thanks to the miner and Dawson and then excused himself. He needed to share the news with Liza.

  * * *

  Liza stared at Mr. Brown. This could not be happening. “My father was hurt in an accident,” she said. Her voice wanted to tremble, but she managed to control it. “You...you caused that tree to fall the wrong way?”

  “It’s a dangerous undertaking, felling trees.” Mr. Brown watched her avidly, like a hawk checking its intended prey for any sign of weakness. Then he smiled, as if trying to release the tension. “Even an experienced lumberjack cannot always determine which way a tree is going to fall. Of course, I couldn’t possibly have done anything to cause that accident. Certainly not. I merely point out that it is very easy for bad things to happen to a man when he’s out in the woods alone.”

  Liza took a step back, wrenching her arm from his grasp. “I do not think there is anything further we need to discuss. Good day to you, sir.” He did not move, still blocking her path. “Are you going to be a gentleman and get out of my way? I need to speak to my pa.”

  “I want you to think about what I said.”

  Suddenly, Matthew was there, brushing up against Liza’s shoulder as he inserted himself between them. His hands were clenched into fists, but when he spoke his voice was very low and calm. “Is there something you need, Mr. Brown?”

  For all his calmness, there was a dangerous glint in his eye. Liza was not surprised when Mr. Brown took a step back. He glared at Matthew for a moment, then he turned and walked away without another word spoken. The after-church crowds had dispersed while she had been talking with Mr. Brown. She hadn’t noticed how alone they had been.

  Liza let her breath out slowly. She could feel the tension ebbing away from her shoulders, and it was only then that she realized how tightly her muscles had been clenched.

  Matthew turned to Liza. “Are you all right?” He clasped both her arms, his grip firm and yet at the same time gentle. “You are safe,” he said in a low tone.

  She could feel the warmth of his hands through the thin calico dress and had to fight against the urge to lean against him, sharing his warmth and his strength. There was something different about him, something in the way he spoke or the way he looked at her. She could not quite decide what it was, but this wasn’t the time to stop and figure it out. She merely nodded, and took a step back. “Yes. I am fine. Thank you.” She needed to maintain her distance from Matthew, no matter how much she longed to rely on him.

  Matthew stepped back and scowled at Mr. Brown’s retreating figure as it disappeared around the corner of the livery stables. “I thought your pa said he was safe for you to be around.”

  “I don’t think Pa expected him to act so strangely in the middle of town, where anyone could see. He is—was—very careful whenever anyone else was around. Something’s changed with him lately. I think—I think he s
ees you as a threat.”

  “Really? Good. If he threatens you again, he’s going to realize just how much of a threat I can be.”

  Pa came up to them, and Matthew changed the subject. “Shall we head back?”

  “Yes, please.” Liza suddenly felt very tired. She longed to be back in the shelter of their own little valley, away from strangers and their threats.

  Matthew handed her into the wagon. For once, she did not protest that she could climb up without assistance. Even an independent woman could appreciate a little help now and then, surely.

  Pa clicked to the horse to start. He waited until they were well on the way back to the claim before he turned to Liza. “Lizzy? Is something wrong?”

  “I’m not sure,” Liza spoke slowly, measuring her words with care. If she told Pa about Mr. Brown’s threat, would he even believe her? He had never taken the man seriously, and this sounded too incredible. “I spoke with Mr. Brown while you were off at the mercantile with the Baron and Mr. Abernethy. He—well, Mr. Brown worries me.”

  “What can Mr. Brown do?” Pa scoffed. “He does what his boss tells him to do, and Mr. Hughes is an honorable man. A cold man, I grant you, but he has a code and he lives by it.”

  “I do not think Mr. Brown has a code,” Liza said, very softly.

  “So long as we get the crops harvested, we’ll have enough money to survive the winter and pay for seeds for next year.”

  Matthew reached over and gave her hand a brief, encouraging squeeze. “We will get the crops harvested. Don’t worry about that.”

  “Aye,” her pa agreed. “You’ve been doing a fair enough job on the harvest, I will admit.” He eyed Matthew sidelong. “And...you were a help today, with all that lawyer talk.”

  Matthew shrugged. “You’re welcome.”

  Liza looked from one of them to the other. Pa and Matthew seemed to regard this episode as over and done with. Maybe there wasn’t anything to worry about.

  Pa went to bed as soon as the sun had set. He never liked to show weakness, but she knew it cost him an effort to walk as much as he had and stand around talking to the other men after church. Matthew, however, lingered. With a jerk of his head, he indicated the bench outside the cabin. Once she settled down, he sat next to her. It might be her imagination, but it seemed as if he sat a bit closer to her this time.

  “I gather that there is more to this Mr. Brown than his just being a man who works for the Baron.” Matthew studied her. “What are you not telling me? I can see it in your face. There is something else.”

  She smiled faintly. “You always did tell me that everything I’m feeling shows in my face. Yes, there is something more I should tell you about Mr. Brown, even if we are no longer—There is something you should know.”

  This was hard to say. She looked down at her hands, wishing there were something she could do to keep busy. Matthew waited, not moving, not speaking, his dark eyes fixed on her. She had the feeling he wasn’t missing any detail, down to the smallest twitch of her little finger, but he said nothing, letting her take the time she needed. She appreciated that kindness.

  She took a deep breath. “Over the winter, it got pretty quiet round here. It doesn’t really snow much, not like back home, but it was raining most of the time. Roads were too muddy for a wagon, ’less you were wanting to bust an axle. There wasn’t too much socializing. Anyway, Mr. Brown started coming by. At first, he came to talk to Pa. That was when the Baron first started having problems with landslides on the road he’d had built, so I think Mr. Brown was trying to see how Pa felt about selling the claim. But then he started talking more to me whenever he came by.”

  Liza twisted the hem of her apron. Matthew doubted she was even aware that she was doing it. She was staring straight ahead and speaking in a quick, jerky fashion, as if she were trying to expel the memory she was seeing in her mind’s eye along with the words she was saying. “I finally realized he was trying to court me, in his own roundabout way. I told him I was promised, but things like promises don’t hold any weight to him. Finally, I told him to stop coming by. He and Pa had an argument. Then Pa had his accident and broke his legs.”

  “And Mr. Brown didn’t stop coming around,” Matthew guessed.

  She shook her head. “No. He started coming by when Pa was laid up in bed and I was out doing chores. He is good at sneaking around.” She rubbed her hand along the edge of her apron. “I didn’t want to tell Pa about what he was up to. Pa was feeling frustrated enough that he couldn’t get around like he used to. I try not to let Pa see how I feel about Mr. Brown, but there is just something about that man that makes my skin crawl. He is repulsive.”

  “I should think he would have behaved better, considering you had told everyone you were engaged.”

  She gave him a sidelong look. “You were quite clear on that point that morning at the McKays’ store. And now Mavis has spread that story all over town.” A note of bitterness crept into her tone, and the silence that fell between them felt like an accusation.

  He looked down at his hands. “That first day... I think we might truthfully say that I was unwell at the time.”

  “You said you had no intention of marrying me.” Was that the faintest hint of pink on her cheeks? He thought it might be. It was hard to tell in this dim light.

  “I had just been hit on the head and dumped in the river. Not thinking clearly. A little confused. Perfectly understandable.” He took a deep breath. “I am sorry if I hurt your feelings.” There. He had said it. It seemed woefully inadequate.

  He hesitated. Liza and her pa weren’t aware of his meeting with the miner. Should he tell Liza that he was free to marry? It no longer seemed as simple a decision as it had once been.

  He was no longer quite sure of his welcome. She seemed to have accepted him as a friend and nothing more. What if she no longer wanted his attentions? It would be awkward to remain on the claim if he offered to renew their relationship and she refused. And he could hardly leave her with the harvesting half-done.

  He needed some sign that she would still welcome his attentions before he could begin to think about courting her as he was now. Not trying to measure himself up to a man whom he could not remember being. This was his chance to have a new start with Liza. The prospect was exciting, but he had to tread carefully.

  “Even if we’re not engaged, we are friends.” He hoped. “People will get used to seeing me around you. Maybe it won’t be enough to keep Mr. Brown away, but it might discourage him from getting too close. And it might help with all those single men who hang around you after church.”

  Liza’s mouth quirked up just a bit, creating an endearing little dimple that he suddenly wanted to touch very badly. “They just want a wife, and any single woman would do. None of them know me or care one way or another about me.”

  “Except Frank Dawson.” He shut his mouth and pressed his lips together. Fool. Don’t bring him up.

  “Frank and I are friends, nothing more.”

  “He wants you to be more than a friend. You must know that.”

  “I do not care about him that way.” She darted him a look, then focused her gaze on her feet. “Not the way a wife should care about a husband. And really, he doesn’t care that much about me. He just wants to settle down.”

  “Well, if Dawson or Brown or any of the other men start to pester you, I want you to tell me about it. This is a problem I could help you with. I want to help you. Will you let me?” He knew it was going to be hard for her to accept help from him. She was so concerned that she keep her independence and not rely on him or anyone else for assistance.

  He was doing everything he could to keep their relationship as friends, not to pressure her into anything more serious for now. He had shifted to sleeping in the barn so that he would not be distracted by the sight of her with her hair unbound first thing in the morning. Her wearing her bonnet helped, t
oo. The woman had no idea how beautiful she looked with her hair slipping loose from its braid. He was having a hard enough time concentrating whenever she was around. But he could hardly tell her any of that, not until he found a way for her to see him not just as a man she’d loved in the past, but as a man she might be able to love in the future.

  He kept going back to that moment crossing the stream, when she had lost her balance and he had caught her. Something important had passed between them at that moment, something he did not quite understand. “It’s getting late. We have an early start tomorrow. And don’t forget your bonnet.”

  Liza snorted. “I might have to put up with that bothersome piece of cloth on my head, but don’t you go thinking you can start ordering me about. I will find some way to turn this around.” Then her lips curled up in amusement, as if she’d just thought of something.

  That smile again. Matthew tried not to notice when she did that, but it was driving him crazy. What was going on inside her head that amused her so? He wished he knew. There were times when they understood each other perfectly. They worked in the fields as a team, not needing speech because they understood each other without words. Then there were times like this one, when she was still a complete mystery to him—a mystery he was driven to understand.

  Once, he had apparently understood her well enough to ask her to share a life with him. But he wanted Liza to love the man he was now, not some figure from the past. He squashed an irrational feeling of jealousy. I’m jealous of myself—how’s that for a twist.

  “What was it about your fiancé that led you to agree to marry him?”

  “It wasn’t any one thing. It was a horde of things.” Her voice was so soft that it wove seamlessly with the evening breeze that had sprung up, rustling the trees. “Little things that added up to one big yes.”

  “Can you give me an example?”

  “Oh, I don’t know. Putting a feeling into words makes me sound so foolish. There was that one time when...” Her voice trailed off, and she blushed.