by C. T. Worth
He needed to flee. From what or whom, he couldn't say. He just needed to get away from town as far and as fast as he could. It was only once the buildings disappeared from view and he was surrounded by nothing but forest that he could consider the situation rationally. He wanted to identify why he had reacted as he had.
There was really only one plausible explanation. Emily was important to Leland, and if he was being honest, he too considered her a friend. It was only natural that it would be distressing to discover a friend might have suffered such a catastrophic injury.
But other than a drawing, there was no reason to suspect that the girl in the flyer was the same one living under his roof. Yes, Emily bore a striking resemblance to the missing girl, but it also could have been a drawing of Mildred. Maybe she just had a common face, and there were many women living near him who had the kind of beauty that caused his breath to catch.
There were actually several reasons to doubt that the flyer had anything to do with Emily. If she had injured herself, there would be a scar or bruising. One couldn't lose every recollection without sustaining the type of blow to the head that would leave behind physical evidence. And surely if she had truly lost her memories, she would have recognized something was wrong. She wouldn't simply assume a new identity, unaware that she had done so. Besides, the missing woman was from Ohio and was named Lilian. The likelihood she had forgotten her own name seemed very farfetched, and Emily was a Southerner.
He would do the prudent thing and discretely ask her a few questions about her past to verify this was all just a coincidence. But there was no need to upset her by telling her about the poor injured girl who had wandered so far from home.
***
When he arrived home, it was nearly dark. The dim light of a fire filled the windows with light. The sound of Leland enthusiastically telling a story accompanied by Emily’s giggles pierced through the glass. When he opened the door warmth and the smell of apple tarts and roasted chicken hit him. This was the part of the day that brought him joy and healed a heart hardened by a decade of suffering.
The flyer burned in his pocket — a gray cloud in a bright blue sky. He was angry that a piece of paper was threatening to destroy this small bit of peace he had managed to create. His eyes shifted to the fire roaring within the hearth. He reached into his breast pocket, removed the offending item, crossed the room, and dropped the folded sheet into the fireplace.
“What was that?” Emily asked.
“Nothing of consequence,” he said as a weight lifted from his chest. With that troubling notice out of the way, he could once again appreciate the joy and comfort of home. “You made apple tarts.”
“Your nose is very perceptive, Mr. Winfield.” Her cheeks were flush, a possible result of the warmth of the fire. It gave her a youthful appearance.
“Did you know those are my favorite?”
“I did,” she replied.
“I told her,” Leland said loudly, raising his hand.
Hunter turned to the boy and lay a hand on his shoulder. “Now son, don’t go sharing all of my secrets with Miss Emily.”
Leland sat up, something he frequently did before he was about to make a big announcement. “We’re supposed to call her Miss Lilian now.”
Hunter caught his breath. The walls seemed to be closing in on him.
“It’s my middle name,” she explained. “I know we only met last month, but I have become so close to you both. I just…I thought it would be appropriate to have you use the name my friends and family often call me by.”
“That is very kind of you.” Hunter’s voice sounded strained. “If you two don’t mind, I think I would benefit from a stroll before dinner.”
“Is it cold outside? Should we wear our coats?” Leland asked getting up from his seat.
“Actually, buddy, I think I need a little moment to myself.”
And with that, he walked out the door.
Chapter 11
Lilian watched the door close. A gust of cold night air rushed into the room, causing her to break out in goosebumps. She did not care.
What just happened?
He had been happy and talkative. Then, in an instant, everything changed. Although his tone had remained light and he had been careful to appear unperturbed, she had no doubts that there had been a definite shift in his mood. This impromptu walk was not simply a pre-meal digestive. It was physical evidence that Hunter couldn't stand to be near her. Proof that she had not imagined that subtle tightening of his jaw muscles seconds before.
But why? What could have caused him to go from relaxed and happy to panicked and agitated so suddenly? It did not take her long to determine the answer. She had done it. More specifically, she had revealed that she had grown close to him and Leland, and that had caused him to run away.
She had been replaying her earlier conversation with Miss Fletcher for days. Lilian desperately wanted to know if he had any romantic feelings directed toward her, but she had no idea how to broach the subject.
Worse, her conscience had decided to join the narrative. She was consumed with guilt for her recent behavior. Leland was so sweet and trusting. And Hunter had been nothing but kind and helpful. And she had repaid them by being deceptive. She had been lying to them from the first moments of their acquaintance. Now she wanted Hunter to confess his love? Could she really expect him to be open with her about his innermost thoughts when she was actively hiding her entire identity?
That was when she decided she needed to be truthful. If there was a chance that he felt as she did, she wanted to know that their relationship was built on honesty. She feared that confessing her lies could destroy everything, but if he was open to helping her when he imagined she was a mail-order-bride trying to reach her intended, why shouldn't he be willing to help her as a runaway bride trying to escape her betrothed?
Still, fear is often difficult to overcome even when logic is assisting in the battle. It was, for this reason, she decided to reveal the truth slowly. Her first task was to share her actual name.
It turned out, this was far more difficult than she had envisioned. Leland had asked so many questions when she told him he could call her Lilian that she concocted a story. But, while that was technically another lie, it was a lie that was closer to the truth.
In a few days, once they were used to her new moniker and she had further demonstrated how much she trusted and cared about them, she could explain it wasn't really her middle name. She would tell them how fear had prompted her to hide her real identity and they would all have a good laugh.
But with the closure of the front door, she could no longer say that her plan to come clean was a wise one. The purpose of such a confession had been to pave the way so she could reveal her feelings to Hunter, allowing them to begin their life together as a family. But given his reaction to hearing that she felt close to him, it appeared that her feelings were not in any way reciprocated. She had been a fool.
She moved away from the range and sank into the chair opposite Leland. He had picked up his chalk and was drawing on his slate as if nothing out of the ordinary had occurred.
“I hope your father makes it back by the time the potatoes are ready. It is the last thing we’re waiting on before we can eat,” she said. She hoped Leland could not detect her heartache. The only saving grace in all of this was that she hadn’t said or done anything that would indicate she was in love. She could still pretend that her sudden request they call her Lilian was because she cared for them as close friends but nothing more.
Leland did not look up from his picture. In a matter-of-fact tone, he said, “He should be back in about fifteen minutes. He usually isn’t gone much longer.”
“Has he done this before?”
“Not for a while, but he used to. Usually, it was because I said something about Ma, or because it was her birthday or their anniversary. I try not to say much about her now.”
Can it be that his shift in mood had something to do with his wif
e? “Is today a special day that might remind your dad of your mom?” she asked.
“I don’t think so.”
“Do you miss not talking about her?”
“Sometimes.”
This child who could spend an hour telling her about the bugs he’d found under a single rock was infuriatingly short on details when it came to a topic she suddenly found to be fascinating. She stood to check on the potatoes.
“You look like her, you know.”
She turned back around. Leland was watching her with big eyes.
“Like who, honey?”
“You look like my mom, Miss Lilian. Do you want to see?”
She nodded, forgetting entirely about checking the potatoes. She walked back to her seat while Leland ran off to his room. He came back a few minutes later with a daguerreotype case and handed it to her.
“He keeps that next to his pillow. We have a bigger photograph of her but it's hanging up, and I couldn’t reach it.”
She unlatched the clasp and unfolded the case. When she saw the image, she nearly dropped the small frame. She could have been staring at a photograph of herself.
“You are right. I do look like your mother.”
“Maybe that's why Pa likes you so much.”
Leland's words filled her with sadness. He was right. It was entirely possible that Hunter didn't really care about her at all and merely showed an affinity for her because her appearance reminded him of the woman he actually loved. Her heart broke a little more. She closed the case, refastened the clasp, and returned it to Leland who ran back into his room.
When he came back, he pointed to the range. “You should check the potatoes, Miss Lilian. They’re bubbling over.”
Chapter 12
“You told me. I should have listened.” Lilian sat at the table at the Forester residence with her head in her hands.
Coming up behind her, Jane rubbed Lilian’s shoulders gently. “Just take a breath and tell me what happened.” She pulled out the chair next to her friend’s and sat down.
Lilian took a sip of water and tried to calm herself. She had cried herself to sleep the night before but could not cry in public. “I was thinking about what you were saying…about trying to discover if he also had feelings for me.” She stopped and swallowed the lump that had formed in the back of her throat. Somehow, saying it out loud made it hurt even more.
Jane pushed a plate of cookies in her direction. Lilian shook her head. Eating had never brought her comfort. She inhaled and said, “I made a nice meal, and everything was waiting for him as soon as he got home from work. He came in. He smiled and talked to us for a few minutes. He even teased Leland. Things were perfect, just like they normally are.”
She paused. She hadn’t intended to mention her real name to anyone else in this town. Given that she was now questioning the idea of making Spruce Hill her permanent residence, there was no good reason to change her position. She would need to be vague and avoid details as she told her story.
“Earlier in the day, I had been speaking to Leland and told him he could call me by the nickname my family sometimes used. A few minutes after Hunter came home from work, this came up. I explained that I had grown quite close to the two of them, which is why I made that offer to Leland. As soon as I said that, he left.”
“What do you mean?” Miss Fletcher asked. She took a sip of her drink, but her eyes hadn't left Lilian’s. It was clear she was very interested in the conversation.
“I mean he literally walked out the door. He pulled away the moment I expressed the slightest attachment. I can’t believe I am so stupid.”
Sunlight streamed in through the window and birds sang to each other as they went about their morning gathering their breakfast.
“But where could he go?” Jane asked. “That is where he lives. His son was there. It was night, and you aren't close enough to town for him to walk off in the dark like that.”
“I don’t know where he went. He wasn't gone very long.” Lilian was tired and emotionally drained. Until last night, she had not allowed herself to deal with the stress of running from home, but with the breaking of her heart her strength crumbled, and months of emotions washed over her like a tsunami.
“Maybe he needed to use the privy and didn't want to say so.”
Lilian appreciated the effort Jane Fletcher was putting into finding an alternate explanation. She wished she could accept one.
“I don’t think so. His whole mood changed. He even told Leland he wanted some time alone. And he hadn't been home for very long at that point. If he wanted to do that without saying so, he could have taken care of it before coming inside.”
Jane nodded. Her hands clutched the sides of her mug. “Was he gone long?”
Lilian shook her head.
“What did he say when he came back? Did he explain why he’d left?”
“No. He just sat down and ate.” Lilian dropped her gaze to the table. She had replayed the events of the prior evening over a hundred times in her head. It still did not make it any easier. “He was a bit more quiet than usual. He asked a little about my childhood but mostly just listened.”
A small vertical line formed on Jane’s forehead as her eyebrows drew together in confusion.
“Oh, but while he was out, Leland showed me a photograph of his mother.” Lilian met Jane’s gaze. “She looks just like me. All those times I thought Hunter was admiring me, he was just watching me because I remind him of her. I am such an idiot. I just want to crawl under a rock somewhere and die.”
“There, there.” Jane reached across the divide and patted her friend’s hands. “I’m sure it's not as bad as all that. Some men prefer certain features in a woman. Obviously, he must have found something attractive about his late wife. If he prefers brunettes it would be natural to assume you might both be….”
“No.” The word was said with such force, the room settled into a momentary silence. “It was not that we looked similar,” Lilian mumbled, her voice weak. Her shoulders were slumped, and she had to remind herself she could not start crying. “It could have been a photo of me.”
“Well, that doesn't mean he doesn't care about you.”
“No, but the walking out as soon as I showed any sort of emotion —”
“Right. Yes, there is that.” Jane turned away, and both women sat in silence contemplating their own thoughts. The clock showed that Leland would be finishing school soon. Lilian had about ten minutes before she would need to leave.
“Oh, what am I going to do?” She blushed, knowing she had said the words out loud without meaning to.
“If your heart loves someone who doesn't love you back, there really is only one thing you can do, dear. You need to move on. It doesn't get any easier standing around waiting for him to change his mind, I can tell you.”
This was not the first time Lilian would have considered this option, but it seemed like an impossible one. “How am I to do that? I live in his house.”
“What about the fellow you came out here to marry. There must have been something there. A girl as young and pretty as you are doesn't move all the way out here if there wasn't any spark.”
How much easier this would all be if she could have just told Jane the truth. But she couldn't help but think that all of her friendships may have been built on a foundation of sympathy which would be entirely wrecked by revealing her life of privilege. “I already sent a letter calling that off. That avenue is closed.”
“What a shame.” Jane tapped her fingers but stopped a minute later and her face lit up. “You are able to perform the duties of a housekeeper now. You might find employment in Astoria.”
If Levin ever decided to look for her in Oregon, he would certainly end up searching for her in Astoria. She needed to stay somewhere more obscure. “I have become very attached to Leland and have formed connections here.”
“Well, the Foresters are the only ones able to afford a housekeeper in this town. At least one that is properly paid
. If it were up to me, you’d be more than welcome to the job. After Bethany marries, I plan to give notice and go live with my uncle. But without Bethany to care for, and with Henry spending so much of his time living at the logging camp, I don't believe he is planning to find a replacement for me. Have you considered asking if they need help at the hotel?”
“Honestly with the number of people passing through town, I am a little surprised the hotel is still afloat. But even if they are looking for help, I’m afraid I did not make a very favorable impression on Mrs. Portly my first week here.” Lilian was thankful that Jane did not point out that she had argued the exact opposite a few days earlier.
“Well, I know you care about the boy, but you came to Oregon for a man you no longer intend to marry. Maybe you should consider returning home.”
This was a solution Lilian had spent a great deal of time thinking about. But was it too soon to return? Would Levin have moved on by now? She longed to send a telegram asking for news, but she feared revealing her location could prove problematic.
“I must think on that,” she said glancing back up at the clock. “But now it is time I go collect Leland from school.”
Jane stood and removed her apron. “I’ll join you.”
“Are you sure?” It was an unusual offer. Lilian nearly always picked the child up alone.
“Yes. I think today, you would benefit from a friend by your side.”
Chapter 13
The walk to the schoolyard was a quiet one. Lilian was naturally the more social of the two ladies, but with her mind occupied, the job of generating small talk fell on Jane, who was not up to the task. Both ladies understood that once Leland joined their fold, they were assured of a lively discourse.
They rounded a corner, and the schoolyard came into view. That was when Lilian saw him. How could she not? As always, he’d gone out of his way to stand out. Impeccably dressed, in a pressed white suit, Levin Sanford was standing under an awning, waiting. He must have seen her, for he tipped his hat and gave her a smile that sent chills down her spine.