His Forgotten Fiancée

“Eventually,” he amended. His tone was nonchalant, and he kept his eyes fixed on the road ahead, but she could see his ears were turning a bit red.

She scratched the kitten under the chin and then moved up to behind the ears. The little animal closed his eyes and purred loudly. She had to smile. “Thank you.”

Once across the river, they rode in silence as the trail wound its way through a forest of big-leaf maples and bitter cottonwood trees. Occasionally they would pass a clearing with a log cabin surrounded by fields of buckwheat or corn or rye. Most of the settlers in this area were already at work harvesting their crops, the men scything the grain while the women bundled the sheaves into shocks to dry. Children ran to and fro carrying water to the adults sweating in the hot sun.

After a few miles, the road narrowed to nothing more than a deeply rutted trail beside a creek that wound its way into the thickly forested hills. Trees arched overhead, and encroaching branches reached out on either side. She had to duck under one that tried to snag her bonnet.

She was extremely conscious of every breath taken by the silent man next to her. They were forced to sit so close together on the bench that his coat sleeve brushed against her shawl. Thankfully, keeping ahold of the restless kitten gave her something to do with her hands.

They had never simply sat like this before, just the two of them alone. When they sat together, it had been with the others around the campfire. On the trail, they had walked side by side through the grasslands and the badlands, talking about what their future would be like in Oregon. They were going to have six children. She’d picked out their names. He had laughed and said he’d better keep practicing law as well as working the land. It had seemed so simple back then. Anything was possible; everything she’d dreamed of was within reach.

When they had fallen in love, she had thought they would spend the rest of their lives together. But Mavis had been right; that had been a fairy-tale romance. Now it was daylight.

All this past year, she had nursed a secret hope that Matthew would come back to her. Even as he stayed away and stayed away, and no word came, she’d kept the dream alive by picturing him returning, coming in the door and sweeping her off her feet and solving all her problems. Mr. Brown would cower before him, her father would cheer up—everything would be wonderful.

Reality was like cold water thrown in her face.

He handled the horse competently, with minimum fuss, until the road forked. One track continued on straight, while the other turned left over a bridge that crossed the stream. He stopped the wagon. “Is it really so difficult to provide signposts? Which way?”

Wry amusement lightened her mood a trifle. The man needed to be taught a lesson in the perils of being overprotective. “Folks round here know where they are and where they want to be. If you don’t know where you’re going, then it makes no sense for you to be doing the driving.”

His thick eyebrows drew together, a crease forming between them. “Which way?”

She leaned forward to rescue the kitten, who was batting at the loose reins as they dangled from Matthew’s fingers. Then she sat back. “I never thought to ask about your ancestry,” she said sweetly. “I’m guessing half man, half mule.”

He heaved a sigh, then dropped the reins and gently gathered up the kitten out of her hands. “Fine. You drive, I’ll scritch.”

She picked up the reins and clucked to the horse, who moved forward across the bridge. The wheels rolling across the half logs created a hollow sound, like the rumble of distant thunder. “You’re awfully stubborn about taking charge of things, considering you aren’t planning on staying long.” She couldn’t let it go; she had to keep picking at the topic like a scab over a wound that wouldn’t heal.

He gave her a sidelong look. “I do not mean to imply that you are not able to drive. But women should not have to fend for themselves.”

“Maybe more than half mule.”

“Surely you acquainted yourself with my defects before agreeing to marry?”

She tried to make her voice sound light and indifferent. “I must have been blinded by love.”

“How romantic.” From his tone, nothing could be more unappealing. He buttoned the kitten into his jacket. She could hear a contented purring start up inside. At least one of them was happy.

The trail began to wind up a low ridge. Fir trees began to replace the maples and cottonwoods. Liza pointed out the ridge on the west. “On the other side of that ridge is the Baron’s land. He hauls his logs down to the river and sends them to his lumber mills in Portland. If he bought the claim from Pa, he’d have a faster route to the river. That’s why Mr. Brown keeps pestering us about selling the claim.”

Matthew frowned. “How is Mr. Brown involved?”

“He works for the Baron.” Liza shrugged. “He wants to keep his boss happy.”

“The way he looks at you, that’s nothing to do with business,” Matthew said darkly.

They came over the brow of the hill and began the gradual descent to her own little valley. She could feel the tension ease out of her muscles like an invisible tide receding, leaving peace in its wake. She was home.

They had arrived at the most beautiful time of the day. The late afternoon sun filtered through the trees, its slanted rays turning the grain in the fields to a sea of gold. The wheat was just ripe enough to harvest. In the pasture, the few cows they possessed cropped the grass peacefully, while chickens scratched outside the newly constructed barn.

It gave her a warm feeling every time she came home and caught sight of the cabin through the trees. One day, they’d have money to put glass in the windows instead of oiled paper. The setting sun would reflect light off the windows. She could picture it, the cabin turning into a gracious home, the grasslands becoming cultivated fields, the vast potential that lay untapped in this beautiful land being realized.

This was where she had planned to put down roots, raise a family. Oh, Lord, please let him love this place as I do. Even if he were leaving, she wanted that. Then it would be as if he loved her still, just a little.

Putting off this moment was not going to make it any easier to say what she had to tell him. He had been very clear that he was going to leave At least this time, he was honest about not staying. Well, then, she would be equally plainspoken with him. She had grown stronger in this year without him. If he did not want to be with her, she would survive. She would not let him break her heart again.

She stopped the wagon. The horse shook its head and let out its breath in a sigh, no doubt impatient at being stopped so close to its home. Then it stretched out its neck and began to nibble on the grass at the verge of the track. Liza turned to face Matthew. “This is my home.”

“Yes.” A light breeze lifted his dark hair out of his wary eyes.

“I need your help with the harvest. After that, consider your debt paid.” She took a deep breath. “But if you leave this time, don’t expect me to wait for you to come back.” Her heart broke, just a little, at the words. But they needed to be said. She could not go through the pain of being left yet again. She had to protect herself.

The silence between them seemed to stretch into eternity. Not even a breath of wind to rustle the leaves in the maple tree by the track. Only the sounds of the horse cropping the grass and the faint purr of the kitten inside his coat. He did not move. She wanted to sink down into the long grass by the side of the trail and hide there. She could not bear it. He wanted nothing to do with her.

Finally, he spoke. “In your position... I would probably do the same thing.”

Apparently, that was all he had to say on the matter. She picked up the reins and clucked to the horse to finish their journey. His response did not make her feel any better. It only reinforced her growing suspicion that the man she had fallen in love with on the Oregon Trail was truly gone. Matthew no longer loved her.

And she was still as much in love with him as ever.

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