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“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.
As the wagon began its slow, rattling descent into the valley, Matthew brooded over the injustice of his situation. Liza blamed him for abandoning her on the trail. Not only did he have no explanation for leaving her, he could not even remember doing so. If that wasn’t bad enough, he had to spend several weeks living on this claim, and he had no idea how to deal with her. He could only fall back on his instinct that women needed to be protected. At least she understood that he didn’t plan to stay around and marry her.
His thoughts spun round and round until he almost felt dizzy. He was going to get a headache again if he didn’t relax. He took a deep breath, then let it out slowly. He just had to fulfill his bargain with Liza, and then he would be on his way again. He still felt guilty about the situation. There was no way to avoid feeling like a cad.
Liza started to speak, then stopped. Tentatively, as if picking her way through a field of boulders, she said, “I should explain something. My father is not well. A tree fell the wrong way and landed on his legs. Broke them, one in two places. They’re healing—he’s able to get around the house and walk a little—but it’s hard for him. A woman from the Kanaka mission came by to help him with daily chores while I was in town.” They had reached the valley floor. The track led up to a small rise on the far side of the narrow valley, to a log cabin. She went on, “He might be...he gets a little cantankerous at times. It frustrates him that he can’t get around and do everything he wants. I thought I should mention that he might be in a bad mood.”
Wonderful. This day just keeps getting better and better.
The cabin was typical of the dwellings that Matthew had seen on their way here, small but sturdy, built of whole logs with a roof that projected out a few feet to provide a protected porch. Only a thin wisp of smoke rose from the chimney, and no candlelight showed through the oiled paper in the window. As the wagon rolled to a stop in front of the cabin, the whole setting looked idyllic.
At least, it did until they heard the singing.
“What on earth is causing that caterwauling?” Matthew demanded. “Is someone torturing a cat in there?” From inside his coat, the kitten popped its head out, ears pricked inquisitively. He stroked it between the ears and it started to purr again, the peaceful sound a stark contrast to the dreadful tuneless sounds coming from inside. He started to get out so he could offer a hand to Liza as she descended, but she scrambled down without waiting for him. She had her shoulders hunched, as if to ward off what waited for her inside.
Liza pulled the string on the door, lifting the latch inside, and pushed the cabin door open wide. After the bright sunshine, the cabin seemed very dark. Looking over her shoulder, Matthew could make out a table, a couple of benches, one on its side, and a cat-and-clay fireplace with only embers glowing. He could just discern a man sitting at the table, slumped forward, his head bent. A half-finished loaf of bread, a hunk of cheese and two plates were on the table...as well as an empty jar, lying on its side. He could not see much more than that. But he did not need sight, not when his sense of smell could tell him all he needed to know. His nose wrinkled.
“Oh, no.” Liza went to the man at the table, who was still crooning softly. She set the empty jar upright. “Pa, you said you weren’t going to buy any more. You promised faithfully.” Her voice broke on the last word, and without thinking Matthew stretched out a hand to her. She did not notice, focused as she was on her father. He let his arm drop and clenched his hand into a fist. There was nothing he could do to help ease her distress.
The man mumbled something, his words slurring together so that Matthew could not make out what he was saying. Then the man repeated himself, louder. “Didn’ buy anything. Gift, thas what it was. Being neighborly. Thas all. The man kindly shared his drink. Social.”
“Was it Mr. Brown? He didn’t ask you to sign anything, did he?” Even in the dim light of the cabin, Matthew could see Liza’s face had turned white.
“No, no.” He mumbled the words, his eyes closing as he angled his head back against the pillow. “I didn’ sign anything. I kept my promise. I’m not like that man of yours.” Her father’s eyes closed, and he sighed deeply. “It was just a verbal agreement. ‘A gentleman’s agreement,’ he said.” Her father’s mumbling faded away into snores. His mouth relaxed, СКАЧАТЬ